


Shaping the Future

by gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Series: Zastario Tales [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bonding, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flash's mechling and first adult vorns. And a few scene of Jazz/Prowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Upgrades

The small medical wing was quiet except for the hum of three creators systems focused on the sleek frame stretched out on the berth. Jazz was practically bouncing on his peds as his optics traveled over Flash's mechling form, the slim grounder frame screaming speed for all to see.

Blue optics powered up, looking around the room as systems synced, booted, and integrated the new with the old.

"Everything's reading clear," Ratchet reported for the sake of the gathering before he focused on Flash. "How are you feeling? Any errors?"

"Nope." Flash replied, already testing some of the motors controls as his hands clenched and unclenched and he smiled up at his creators. "So when can we go racing?"

Jazz didn't hold back his laugh, the question so typical of the creation he had helped raise. "When Ratchet says you're clear for it."

"Three orns, assuming the upgrades settle correctly. You might not feel it now, but you'll _ache_ soon," Ratchet pointed out.

Flash grumbled, but the sound was good natured whining, with no real fire behind it. "Can I sit up?" He asked, looking over at Ratchet.

"Yes," the medic nodded. "You may get up _slowly_ so long as you receive no errors and your balance remains stable."

Flash obeyed, sitting up slowly and testing each of his systems as he did so, and accepted Jazz's hand to shift around on the berth so that his pedes were dangling over the edge. 

"No errors." He chirped at Ratchet in delight, helm twisting this way and that as he looked over his new form.

"Good," the medic nodded. "You may leave when you are steady enough to walk. Expect that you will ache and not want to move for several orns. I know all three of your creators are intimately familiar with being rebuilt."

"Like you would ever let us forget how many times you put us back together." Jazz teased as he helped Flash to his feet, steadying the mechling as he found his balance with his new frame.

"I remember well," Optimus nodded, a sentiment echoed by Elita One. "At least this did not come with the trauma of being badly damaged first."

"Blagh." Flash made a face at the idea and tried a few steps, gaining confidence with each one and his field brightening with pleasure. "Can I go home with you this time?" He asked suddenly, looking at Jazz.

His creator flinched, field going neutral as he debated internally once more. "Once you've fully integrated into your new frame and learn how to drive, we'll see about you coming over and spending an orn or two."

Flash nodded, well used to the type of response, even if he still didn't completely understand why. It was confusing, when all he knew of his other creators was that they loved him deeply and wanted to be with him.

He wobbled for a nanoklik when Jazz let go of him, finding his balance quickly as was he walked around the small room before ending up back at his creators side and taking a playful swipe at Jazz.

Jazz laughed as he deflected the blow. "Don't. Keep that up and Ratchet will beat me up."

The medic humphed and ran a last powerful medical scan over Flash, privately amused at the way it made the mechling squirm. "All you, you may go. I expect you back here every morning until I say otherwise for a checkup."

"He'll be here," Optimus promised.

"I'll hold you to that," Ratchet rumbled dangerously, though everyone knew it was more habit than threat.

"Late morning?" Flash asked hopefully as he was led from the exam room. "And I'm hungry."

"Acceptable," Ratchet nodded.

"Come on," Jazz grinned with a quick glance at Optimus and Elita One, who grinned and shooed him off to spend time with his creation. "Bellaria said he'd save something special for us."

Flash whooped and bounced with excitement, bounding ahead of his creator as they exited the medical building, heading the opposite direction from Optimus and Elita One. Jazz followed behind with a smile and easily caught up outside. "After the snack, we'll pick out an alt mode for you."

"Something fast." Flash said with a grin as he fell into step beside his creator, optics flashing in delight at the idea.

"Fast, but only if you promise you are going to be responsible with it." Jazz said, his voice taking on a serious edge.

"I promise." The words came after a moment of consideration, the mechling turned to walk backwards so he could meet his creator's visor squarely.

"Then something very fast." Jazz said, spinning the slender frame around so that they were both walking forward again. Mechling or not, Flash had been raised to consider his actions before he acted, and when he made a promise it was never done lightly. To see that behavior even in an older sparkling had made Jazz almost burst with pride. With Optimus as his primary caregiver it wasn't necessarily a surprise, but it was still something so important to peace and a functional civilization that Jazz never hid how proud he was when Flash did the right thing. That it would make Prowl look more favorably on the youth when they finally met and began to interact was just a bit of a bonus. "I know where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe go to scan new alts. That's where we're headed. After we fuel on sweets."

There was a flare of excitement from Flash at the suggestion. While he had not been allowed to race yet, Jazz had taken him to several of the tracks, and he had been witness to a small grudge match between the pair. It was still one of the highlights in file labeled _speed_ in his processor.

* * *

Flash turned around once more, admiring his new look in the full length surround mirrors of the shop. They had ended up at one of the smaller shops, owned by a mecha that was a patron of his creator's bar, but the mechling was ecstatic with the results.

Programmed nanites colored his sleek, lightly armored frame in a primary of red with yellow and white highlights and guaranteed to catch optics.

"Go ahead and transform once." Clearline requested, glancing at Jazz to make sure it was all right. "Check that you still like how it looks in your alt as well."

With a nod Flash turned face on to the mirrors and found the transformation sequence that he had already performed once, shivering a little at the still odd sensation of his frame refolding into another form. It felt good on him, the sleek performance model that he and his creator had chosen from the templates available. He could also feel as parts moved and shifted the soreness that Ratchet had warned of setting in already.

"It looks good on you," Jazz said with open approval. "When you're feeling up to it, Elita One and I will take you out to some quiet roads so you can practice driving without distractions."

"Might be a few orns before I'm ready." Flash groaned in honesty as he folded back into his root form, stretching a little and wincing.

"Believe me, it's good that you know that," Jazz chuckled. "Shows a lot more common sense than I had at your age. The roads will be there when you're ready, and so will we."

Flash nodded and smiled at his creator before addressing Clearline. "Thank you. Sorry for taking so long."

The older mech chuckled good naturedly. "No worries mechling. A first alt choice is not something to be hurried, nor is a first color job. And Jazz is right, it does look good on you."

"Come on," Jazz offered his hand to Flash. "I dealt with the paperwork and payment while you were being reformatted. Let's get you home and in your berth before the ache turns into hurt. I have no doubt that Elita got some pain blockers out of Ratchet since your discomfort isn't because you did something stupid."

"Transport?" Flash asked hopefully as they thanked Clearline and exited the shop once more. He really didn't feel up to walking all the way back to his other creators' residence.

Jazz nodded. "Of a sort. Optimus is coming to pick us up."

There was a flare of happiness from Flash, eager anticipation of what his other mech creator was going to think of his new form and coloration. He waited with Jazz outside the shop until the largest of his creators rolled up.

"You definitely went for sleek and fast, Flash," Optimus Prime's rumble as he opened the back of his trailer and extended the ramp. "It suits you well."

"Come on, it's easier to travel in alt mode in there," Jazz suggested as he transformed and pulled around to enter second, protecting the mechling between the two much more heavily armored adults.

Flash groaned as he settled in Optimus trailer, his frame really starting to ache. But there was no mistaking the pleased teek of his field at the praise from his larger creator and the nearness of Jazz.

"Short ride." Jazz promised as he bumped his creation gently as the trailer closed and locked. "And Optimus will keep it smooth. He's had plenty of practice."

"And far more demanding passengers," Optimus chuckled and pulled into the light traffic that politely made way for him, though he did not demand it. No one alive was unaware of what their Prime looked like. "Ratchet is not known for his tolerance of bumps."

Flash had to chuckle at that. "He doesn't seem tolerant of very much."

"He's not," Jazz grinned despite himself. "But we pretty much made him that way. We weren't the easiest crew to keep alive and he took it kinda personal-like when somebody didn't make it."

Flash hummed softly, silently so thankful that all three of his creators had survived a time that was a barest shadow of his youngest memories. He was functioning in the aftermath, watching as mecha struggled to rebuild a world that had been all but destroyed, and create new places for themselves in it. He'd been there while even the most stable of mecha, his own creators, struggled to change the thinking of longer than he could conceive of.

While it wasn't a long ride, Flash couldn't have been more grateful when Optimus rolled to a stop and let them out. He _ached_ in a way his youngling upgrades hadn't come close to. He was looking forward to the pain blockers more than he should.

A gentle hand rubbed along his back, magnets soothing some of the ache in a familiar touch he known all his life, and Flash melted into the comfort with a groan of relief.

"Come on, Jazz can rub your back for the walk. Elita has your room all set up for berth rest of several orns and the pain blockers there. She's nursed me through enough post-rebuild aches to know exactly what a mecha wants." Optimus smiled at his creation that had grown up well but entirely too fast.

"Rest. Pain blocks." Flash sang teasingly as he made his way inside, only to be stopped just in the door by his third creator.

"Energon, sweets and tolerating a lot of whining when he thought no one was listening," she teased her mate then knelt to look at her new mechling from every angle, making him turn around. "You do look very good. Not that I doubted Ratchet work, but shopping for an alt and colors... you should have _seen_ what Orion looked like the first time he was allowed to pick something out himself."

Jazz had to snicker as he continued to rub his creation's shoulders, both of them perking up curiously. "Do tell?"

"Do _not_ ," Optimus groaned. "I should not be held accountable for his actions."

"Of course, love." Elita One's grin was a warning to her mate that she was just going to wait until he was out of audio range for a full show and tell. "Come on, Flash. Your berth is ready and the pain blockers are there."

Flash allowed himself to be led back to his room, basking in Elita One's continued analysis and approval of his new frame and coloration. A sigh of contentment still escaped him as he settled on the berth and the first of the pain blockers started to work.

Jazz settled on the berth next to him, palms still running over the joints that he knew were the most sore after a rebuild and the strain his creation had gone through.

"Have a present for you too." Jazz added quietly as Flash started to settle. "Datapad there on the berthstand for when you wake up. A game, to keep you entertained while you're self repair works. Since I know how much you like sitting still."

Optics that had nearly powered down flicked on briefly with a grin. "Thanks," he squeezed Jazz's hand before the demand for recharge claimed him.

"He really is a very good looking mechling," Optimus smiled at the scene from the door. "How long should I ask Thundercracker to wait to see him?"

Jazz continued to stroke his creation even after Flash was in recharge as he considered. "A few orns, if he can stand it. I'd like Flash comfortable in his new frame before all of the new protocols kick in."

"He will stand it. He has made it clear he will abide by our rules, so long as we do not actively try to turn Flash against him and he's held up his end as honorably as any Autobot," Optimus said firmly. "Unless Flash asks for his company earlier, Thundercracker will wait." His expression softened and he motioned Elita One to join him. "You are welcome to stay as long as you wish." It was a traditional statement, but one that Optimus never failed to make.

Jazz nodded his thanks, scooting a little closer to his creation in a way that Flash wouldn't allow now that he was older and just enjoying the warm, peaceful feel of the mechling's field.

Slowly Jazz's optics scanned the new frame and alt from top to bottom, and Jazz resigned himself to the fact that Flash was soon not going to be his to watch over and care for, a mechling on his way to adult functioning.

It was not going to be easy, letting his creation go.

* * *

Flash checked the time and finished off his energon in a few quick gulps that would normally have his femme creator nagging at him to slow down. He was expecting company though, and he was eager to see what Thundercracker thought of his new frame and coloration. He'd been warned that he might feel differently about the large Seeker that had been his playmate as a sparkling and his companion and mentor as a youngling. He didn't completely understand what they were telling him, and he was rather sure that whatever it was wouldn't affect him as bad as his creators and Ratchet were expecting. Even if it did, it wasn't like there was anything to do about it but work through it. He'd learned that lesson well. What you couldn't change you learned to adapt to.

"Ready to see Thundercracker?" Elita One's voice was warm from the doorway to his room.

"Yup." Flash chirped in response. He paused to check his finish without really giving it much thought before he bounded forward, field brushing against his creators in playful affection. He led them in the walk to the living room and its large balcony, the place where he traditionally met the Seeker.

"Hello Flash." The deep rumble of his friend's voice caught Flash's attention and had the mechling smiling in delight.

"Thundercracker. What do you think?" Flash asked, watching the Seeker's reaction carefully. It wasn't that Thundercracker had ever been dishonest with him, but that he very much wanted him to honestly _like_ what he saw.

"I think," Thundercracker took a step closer and shifted to look from a slightly different angle. "Yes, I think it not only suits you very well, but it looks good on you. You can carry off flashy in a way that I can't."

Flash's field flared with pleasure at the compliment. "Jazz helped me pick out a good alt to. He and Elita One are going to take me out tomorrow to try it out for the first time."

He bounced closer to Thundercracker. "Maybe you can-." The moment their fields came into deep contact Flash froze in shock, charge rippling though his frame and gathering around his spark and deep in his pelvic area in a strange sensation that almost shorted his processor.

"There is no reason to act on that now," Thundercracker's voice was tight, a warning to the other adults that the field contact had hit him just as hard. "This is what you were warned of. The coding."

Flash stood where he was, his entire frame quivering as he looked up at Thundercracker with bright optics that revealed he was a little frightened by what he was feeling. "What does it want?"

Thundercracker knelt, every movement slow and careful as he fought the demands of his coding, trying to force it to calm down because he _was_ going to bond with this mech, he just needed time. "Ultimately it wants us to bond. For now, it would likely settle for a lower-intimacy interface. Hardline, tactile, penetrative. It does not need to be now. The code will settle some in a few kliks if we make it."

Flash cycled air through his vents evenly, taking comfort in the fact that Thundercracker was calm and that his creators were nearby. "This is _that_ code." He didn't sound like he liked it much. 

"Will it help if I move?" The mechling asked, still quivering and on the verge of backing up but not sure if that was the _right_ thing to do in the moment.

"Yes, it is _that_ code," Thundercracker had to pause to steady himself again. "Yes, distance should help, at least for a few orns. Exposure will help you adapt to it. Backing off will calm it down some."

Flash backed away, still venting in a steady rhythm but relaxing a little more now that he had something to do and was in motion. "Sorry." He apologized, distressed by the strain on Thundercracker and stressed by the strain on his own systems.

It grew a little easier to focus when Elita One came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, the familiar field that spoke of safety and comfort distorting Thundercracker's some.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Flash," Thundercracker said firmly, then hesitated. "I can leave for the orn...."

"I'll need to learn how to control this, right?" Flash asked, frame relaxing fractionally as the coding started to ease off a little more. "Should start learning now." He said, looking around at all of the adults to check his thinking, even if he was confident in his decision.

"You do need to learn to control it, but not by pushing yourself too hard," Optimus said. "You have time."

"Controlling it is preferable to giving in right away," Thundercracker agreed. "I'd like a chance to court you."

"Okay." Flash said, processing the advice of his elders and trying to come up with a solution. "Maybe stay for a little bit? Energon?" He said, glancing at his femme creator, "And we can talk?"

"I'd like that," Thundercracker motioned to the furniture that had been selected for comfortable gatherings of many frametypes. He settled in one meant for the wide triangular wings he sported, confident that Flash would select a location and seat he was comfortable with. Elita One soon returned with a light solar energon and a few confections.

Flash curled up in a seat well across the balcony from Thundercracker, both of them understanding that is was nothing personal as the energon and the confections were served. "What sort of courting?"

"Courting you as a mate and for my trine." Thundercracker explained as he worked on controlling his desire to _take_ the Zastario so close by it ached by focusing on his energon.

"I don't fly." Flash pointed out, snuggling deeper in his chair, and far more comfortable than the large mech across from him. "Isn't that important?"

"Being _Seeker_ is important," Thundercracker chuckled roughly. "I already threw that off the balcony, so to speak, by taking Silverbolt as my Vision. He was accepted because he is _kin_ , and because as Winglord my trine is more about politics than tradition. There will be grumbling. It won't matter."

Flash hummed, accepting and trusting of Thundercracker as he sipped at his energon. "Jazz said he'll let me start working in the Bar, early evenings, now that I have my upgrade." Flash announced, to break the silence and to break the news that he was honestly excited about.

"It's a good way to meet a lot of mecha," Thundercracker nodded. "You might find you enjoy it enough to stay on."

Flash chirped in delight at the thought. "I like being there anyway. Would you mind? Maybe you can come see me there."

"No, I wouldn't mind," Thundercracker chuckled. "I might come by to see you, though it doesn't really cater to fliers. What do you like most about being there?"

"The mecha." Flash smiled, optics brightening some as he thought about the bar. "It's fun when Creator gets music groups in there to perform as well."

"Being that social is a good thing. I have no doubt you picked that up from Jazz," Thundercracker said easy praise for both creator and creation.

Flash preened at the praise, sitting up straighter in his chair and showing off a little.

From the background Elita One hid a smile, knowing that her creation didn't even realize that he was making a display of himself, but glad that he was all the same. Flash wanting the Seeker would make things easier on everyone. And if Flash expressed an unprompted interest to Jazz it might make the situation easier for his third creator as well.

"He'll be a good mentor for you for a long time," Thundercracker added, subtlety wanting to encourage his future mate to understand that becoming an adult and all that came with it did not mean breaking any existing ties. "He's forgotten more about how to make mecha comfortable and happy than most ever learn."

Flash laughed at that thought even as he nodded in agreement. It was something he had only recently begun to notice when he observed his primary creator, but it was true. Jazz had a way of greeting stressed or uptight mechs and having them relaxed and at ease in less than a joor when he put his processor to it. It was a skill that Flash admired, and was subtly trying to learn himself.

"He said something about being busy all this orn, but he promised to be out early tomorrow and spend all orn teaching me to drive." Flash informed Thundercracker.

"I'm looking forward to when he deems you skilled enough for me to watch you on a track," Thundercracker purred in genuine anticipation. "I can see already that your alt is going to be sleek, fast and very attractive."

Flash's engines revved at the suggestion, a powerful rumble even now when he was still in his mechling form. "Me too. The few times creator took me out with him...the only thing that has come close is when you take me flying."

Thundercracker smiled indulgently. "I've seen Jazz drive flat out, and it's quite a sight. Nearly as fast as a Seeker on patrol."

"And so much fun." Flash was quivering in excitement, remembering the feel of his creator's field all around him as he had ridden in Jazz's cab and the intense joy and high that the adult hadn't bothered to try and dampen washing over them both.

Thundercracker's smile brightened. "Now you can start to race at his side. Go even faster than he does, if you learn the tricks well. There aren't many who can out-race him."

There was a moan from his other creators that had Flash laughing. "Don't encourage him too much!" Elita chastised the Seeker. "We still need to be able to catch him for a while."

"You can always call me or Silverbolt," Thundercracker grinned at her with a mischievous glint in his optics that was beginning to show on rare occasions. "We can chase down any grounder. And there's Blurr and Drift too. Though they might be bad influences on him."

"You all are going to be bad influences on him at this rate." Elita One growled, though her tone was clearly teasing and everyone gathered knew it.

Thundercracker actually _laughed_ in full good humor. "You can pay me back when our creations come visit. I think you're going to enjoy being sparkling's kin more than you let on."

* * *

Flash leaned over the bar, resting on his elbows and taking a moment in the ebb of traffic to enjoy the music that his creator had arranged for the evening. It was always enjoyable here for him. Not just because he was with his creator, but also because he honestly enjoyed interacting with the wide variety of mecha who came by.

Jazz's Place had only grown in popularity since he had opened it, the bar having a reputation as a place where a mecha could come and unwind with some good quality energon and music. It was safe too, since his creator refused to tolerate any trouble. A fact that some mecha had found out the hard way as they were asked never to come back, usually on their assisted exit through the front door. The few who didn't recognize Jazz for the skilled fighter he was learned fast, and those who refused to respect the polite ban on their presence were introduced to Jazz's mate, who just happened to be the Chief of Planetary Defense and Chief Planetary Planner. Flash had seen it once, when the proud, humorless looking black and white Praxian who'd carried him had come to deal with a troublemaker _personally_ ... though his security escort actually did the work. Prowl was there for intimidation value, and Flash had seen just how effective he was at it in the way even those not in trouble responded to his appearance.

Flash glanced up when the door slid open along with many in the bar. Most were startled to see Seeker wings fanned out from the frame that entered, but Flash was delighted. Even before he saw the blue with silver and black trim and the red line on his wings, he knew it was Thundercracker.

He raised a hand to catch the Seeker's attention, noting how Thundercracker found and acknowledged his creator's presence before making his way over the mechling.

"How is your evening going?" Thundercracker asked as he found a place to stand by Flash.

"Very well. Even better now." Flash said, field reaching out to rub against the edge of Thundercracker's in a warm welcome. The flash of almost painful arousal-desire greeted him in reply, triggering much the same in his frame.

"Does he allow you high grade yet?" Thundercracker asked quietly.

A small shiver ran through Flash, and he focused on the question in an attempt to ignore his frame. "Small amounts, in private. He says I have no reason to get overcharged yet.

"I agree with that," Thundercracker chuckled and slipped something from his subspace. He offered the nicely crafted small box to Flash.

The mechling took it from him gently, inspecting the box carefully before opening it to study the softly glowing offering inside. His sensors lit up at the scent of the fine energon and the skillful construction of the confection inside. "For me?" He asked, looking up in surprise.

"Yes," Thundercracker nodded, noting that more than a few of the patrons were now watching them, just as he intended. Even if few of them recognized a formal courting effort when they saw it, they all did recognize a valuable gift and its probable intent. Some even glanced towards Jazz, trying to work out if he was going to allow this.

The owner of the bar and creator of one of the focal points of the attention seemed to be watching with no intent of interfering, almost more curious than anything else.

"Should I eat it now, or save it for later?" Flash asked, suddenly a little shy and not entirely understanding why he was feeling that particular emotion.

"I would eat it where and when you have plenty of time to savor it," Thundercracker smiled with a brush of warmth though his field at having his offering accepted. "They're not yet easy to come by."

Flash carefully closed the box and slipped it into his subspace, thanks slipping through his field as he continued to try and sort through the new and strange urges. Thundercracker smiled in return, his field expressing his pleasure that his gift was acceptable.

"Would you like to find out where those urges lead?" The Seeker asked quietly, brushing his arousal along their touching fields.

"Tonight?" Flash couldn't hide the flare of eagerness that rushed through him, warmth in his spark and lower frame teasing at him.

"If you wish," Thundercracker offered his hand even as his optics sought out Jazz, prepared to back off if the former Autobot objected to how quickly he was moving.

A ping on his comm caught his attention, Jazz smiling at Flash even as he addressed Thundercracker. ::Take good care of him. And if you are planning to keep him overnight you should let Optimus and Elita One know too. They are expecting him back later.::

::I will always take good care of him,:: Thundercracker replied with his honor as a Seeker and the Winglord behind it. ::I will alert them if he wishes to stay overnight.::

With a small nod of acknowledgement Jazz's attention turned back to the conversation that had been interrupted, leaving Flash and Thundercracker to work things out between themselves.

"He said I can go." Flash chirped, bright optics locked on Thundercracker.

"Yes," the Seeker smiled softly and guided Flash outside. "You may also stay the night, if you wish." He turned to the mechling and opened his arms. "Fly with me?"

"If you can still carry me now." Flash replied, eagerly stepping into the offered embrace so that his frame was flush with the larger Seeker's.

"Always," Thundercracker struggled to suppress a deep moan of raw, unfiltered lust that hit as hard as Devastator. His arms came around Flash's frame and he launched into the air, his frame already burning hot.

The slender red mech in his arms held as still as he could, unable to avoid the strength of Thundercracker's feelings and the ones forming in him in answer.

By the time they landed on the main balcony of the Winglord's residence both mecha were quivering. When Flash's pedes touched solid ground Thundercracker's helm followed his down for a searing kiss. There was a squeak of surprise against his lips before the kiss was returned eagerly, if clumsily.

While black hands caressed Flash's frame to stroke sensors and dip into armor seams, Flash's hands skittered wildly over Thundercracker's frame, looking for something to ground him against the sudden wash of sensation.

Even amidst all of the new chaos there was only a feeling of trust in the young mech, safe and secure where he was. Thundercracker had never given him a reason not to trust, and neither had his creators.

With a reluctant moan Thundercracker straightened, though he continued to hold Flash close and envelop the young mech in his field that promised pleasure for answering the desires of their frames. As difficult as it was to convince his frame to move, Thundercracker managed to guide Flash towards his berthroom. They both saw Silverbolt lounging with his brothers in the living room watching vids, but no one said anything.

Flash recognized them all, his processor making note of who was there, but it was far too distracted with his frame and Thundercracker to really devote a lot of attention to the scene.

He did pause for a moment, optics sweeping around the large room and the grand berth that was the centerpiece of the arrangement as the door closed behind them. When his attention came back to Thundercracker, the Seeker teeked an unusual level of seriousness, even for him. Strong black fingers slid under Flash's chin to ensure they kept optic contact.

"Understand that you have a right to stop this at any point, no matter what coding has to say," the eddies in Thundercracker's field expressed his unease. "Also understand that screaming 'no' is an appropriate response to get me off you. Nothing in my history before Silverbolt understands consent the way you do. I'm still learning."

Flash frowned at him, trying to concentrate through the feelings. "I ... understand. Trust you."

Tension bled from Thundercracker's wings. He'd done all he could. He leaned down to claim Flash's mouth once more and guided the smaller mech to his berth. The mechling in his arms went willingly, if clumsily. This was all new to him, driven by protocols and emotions that that were new and intense, and that he had nothing to compare to.

One had reached out, hovering close to the broad expanse of the Seekers wings. He had always loved touching them, and the few times he had been allowed to do so were bright in his memory.

"Yes, touch," Thundercracker moaned at the thought, his wings pressing towards the touch as he settled Flash on his back and sank onto the berth over him. He began to kiss his way down Flash's throat. "Do you have seals?"

Flash searched back through his memory files, thinking before he answered as a hand started to move over one of the dark wings. "Yes. Though Ratchet said I could come back to have them taken care of if I wanted."

A shudder passed through Thundercracker's very core. "You won't," he moaned deeply. "I'll take care of them, of you."

"I like the sound of that." Flash purred, not understanding why he did or what he was implying, but sure that he wanted Thundercracker to take care of him. 

The Seeker shivered and began to kiss his way lower, eventually ghosting lips over Flash's spike cover. Teasing licks traced the seam, working to open it without intentional command. Never once did Thundercracker think he'd be grateful for Starscream's strange taste in porn until he had realized this moment was coming.

A surprised gasp echoed in his audios, right before strong hands clamped down on the wings still in Flash's hands, the mechling reacting without processing. The panel slid open with a snap of well-oiled and finely crafted mechanisms, but driven by his own coding to _claim_ Thundercracker had to struggle just to remember to slow down enough to smear the softening oil onto the seal before he applied his mouth and a well-trained glossa to it.

The first few motions of his glossa had Flash panting and moaning, hips rising into the touch, his field a swirling mass of confusion and moderate discomfort, pleasure and desire.

"Thundercracker..." The mechling groaned, the seal starting to stretch from the pressure of spike it protected.

"A bit of pain and then it'll never hurt again," Thundercracker repeated what he'd heard in Starscream's vids more often than he cared to think about. "Let it happen."

A soft grunt of acceptance mellowed into a low moan of intense pleasure at the next swipe of Thundercracker's glossa. The yelp of pain that carried clear into Flash's field and over into the other mech as the seal gave way was expected but startled them both. Thundercracker didn't give it much thought though, long used to far worse, and he had a goal as he relaxed his intake to take his new lover, his future bonded, all the way in.

The slender frame had gone rigid at the first wash of pain, but slowly relaxed as the pain faded and new pleasure tickled at his processor. The first stroke of skilled glossa over his new equipment drew a far different response from him. "Oh-yes!"

Thundercracker hummed and continued to swirl his glossa around the emerging spike, taking in the large size, perfect for filling a Seeker, and the exquisite spiraled texture that made Thundercracker's valve slick and constrict to just think about. Each lap drew more delightful sounds from Flash and against the soft berth coverings the Seeker's spike was already rigid and guiding his hips into grinding against the softness.

Flash squirmed, his hands digging into the berth as soft mews of delight and pleasure escaped him, his hips starting to twitch and actively seek the new feelings. "Thundercracker." He moaned the designation of his lover, the tone inviting, and received a flare of pleasure-approval-thanks across their mingled fields. Thundercracker's intake easily accepted the emerging spike and he swallowed around it while his glossa worked the lower portion.

The mechling was quickly losing coherency, his processor mainly concerned with only two facts. The multiplying pleasure in his frame, and the mecha who was causing. Thundercracker swallowed around the spiral shaft once more and drew back to catch the first burst of transfluid in his mouth. His entire frame hummed with pleasure and need as intense as Flash's as he worked the new spike and saw to give as much pleasure as possible.

Flash keened with the energy of the overload, spike thrusting unconsciously into the welcoming mouth as his optics went bright, then dark. As Thundercracker finished swallowing, he debating breaking the valve seal while his lover was still out. A jolt inside his coding sent a flash of horror through him as he realized just how much of _him_ was being edited to make him acceptable to a mech he was more afraid of losing than his heritage as a Seeker.

"No. No, you will know this pain even if it is the last pain you know," Thundercracker growled to himself as he looked down at the lazily rebooting mechling, a processor who knew nothing of war, hunger, death, or loss. If the peace held, he knew eventually it would break his makeshift trine. He'd been through too much to cope with the brightness of these young mecha forever. But so long as he didn't bond to Silverbolt, a feat that was likely impossible thanks to the gestalt bonds, he could make do. Even if it was only turning to another war-haggard Seeker from time to time.

A soft purr signaled Flash's return to something resembling coherency, his field stretching out to wrap around Thundercracker in a warm blanket of wonder and thankfulness. 

The Seeker nuzzled him, then nipped lightly at a finial. "Think your spike has another round or two in it?"

"I'm willing to find out." Flash said with far more eagerness now that he knew what to expect and his coding what somewhat sated on several fronts. "What else can we do?"

"My valve is aching to be filled," Thundercracker rumbled deeply as his fingers played along Flash's frame. "I can ride you, or you can take me."

"Ride me?" Flash repeated, processor working at the suggesting and his field flaring with curiosity.

Thundercracker chuckled and kissed him. "I can straddle your hips, or I can be on my back with you above me."

"Rather like where I am right now." Flash said, arms raising above his helm as he stretched from his position on his back. "View is nice too."

"As you desire," Thundercracker rumbled. He shifted and righted himself before straddling his young lover's hips. "The basics should be hard wired into your components," he added as he slid his hand between them and smoothly guided the thick, spiral spike into his valve with a deep, rumbling moan.

"Basics for-oh!" Flash's question broke into a matching moan of pleasure with the first pass of the tight, slick heat over his spike. Optics moved from watching his spike sink into the wanting valve to meet the brilliant red optics of the Seeker over him.

He hadn't understood what they had meant when they had talked about the fact that Thundercracker would be a 'special friend' to him when he got older. Now he was starting to think he understood, and liked the implications a lot.

"Feels good." He admitted, shifting his hips upward, testing the protocol driven directions in his processor, sure that these were the ones that the Seeker had been referring to.

"Yes it does," Thundercracker moaned as he settled, grinding the spike housing against his platelets and valve entrance before he tightened his valve calipers and slowly lifted up. "Feels very good."

The motion drew another moan from the mechling beneath him, and Flash's hands squeezed the berth padding before rising to grab on to the Thundercracker's hips instead. "Show me." The words were part demand, part plea, and all willing.

Thundercracker nodded and set a slow, intentional pace to draw out the building pleasure as long as they could stand. "Flash..." he was already panting slightly. "Who selected your spike design?"

"Me." The mechling answered, surprised and working to focus through the haze. "From a list of choices." He frowned, distracted and suddenly concerned. "Do you like it?"

"Very much," Thundercracker shuddered. "Just the right size, and the texture...." he simply moaned and allowed his field, rich with pleasure, to speak for him and reassure his mate-to-be.

Joy, far stronger than happiness at the simple approval, washed through Flash for Thundercracker to feel in return. The Seeker moaned at the response, feeling it feed protocols that part of him wanted to fight with everything he was while most of him accepted. A happy mate was a good thing. Pleasing his mate was critical, but it was also mutual. Both sides of the forming pair had protocols working hard to ensure the other was attractive, desirable and that he wanted to please and be wanted in return.

This first exchange of uncertainty met with approval locked that coding firmly in place by rewarding them for liking the other's efforts.

There was nothing but the building, crackling pleasure in the awareness of either mech right now, the code's caresses enhancing what was already almost blinding them.

"Ohh, overload for me, in me," Thundercracker gasped as he squeezed and rippled while he rode the spike that had been all but customized for him by the medic who wanted them to be happy.

The directions, while not fully understood, were eagerly followed. Within a few nanokliks the mechlings blue optics were white again, blinded by the pleasure of his second overload as he spilled into his lover. Above him Thundercracker roared, deep and resonant, and tightened around the crackling spike as he lost himself to overload.

They slowly came back to themselves with Thundercracker sprawled over Flash, his wings twitching and valve still gripping the spike tightly.

"This is fuuuuuuuuuuuun." Flash purred, nuzzling at Thundercracker as he came down from the high again.

The Seeker rumbled in amusement, uninclined to move. "It is the favorite hobby of mecha everywhere for good reason. This is only a fraction of the basic options."

"Tired now." Flash agreed, snuggling into the warm frame pinning his to the berth. "Want to learn more though, if _you_ will teach me..."

"Every trick I know," he purred and shifted a bit to the side. It slid Flash's spike out of him, but it allowed him to hold the mechling. With the last of his awareness, he composed a message to Elita One and sent it.


	2. Learning About Functioning

Flash couldn't contain the small ripples of excitement in his field. Thundercracker had spoken on several occasions of taking the mechling to a Seeker function so that Flash could start to get a feel for the world that he was going to be a part of whether the mechling wished it or not. This orn was finally that orn, and as he was released from the safe circle of his intended mate's arms he couldn't help but stare in awe at the gathering of Seekers and Kin enjoying high grade, treats and each other's company in good spirits. Just like with Prime, The First Light Festival was a largely informal event, unlike the Rite of the Storm Flight that Flash had been allowed to watch with other grounders. Also unlike the Rite of the Storm Flight, Aerials and non-flier mates were welcome, even though it really was a Seeker gathering.

"Go ahead and explore," Thundercracker urged quietly. "I believe you've met them all at least once."

Flash spotted the Aerialbots nearby, at least Silverbolt and Skydive, and waved at them as he looked around. "Okay. Anything I should look out for?"

"Don't drink the high grade and no more than one high grade confection," Thundercracker chuckled. "It'll send you to Ratchet and me to the scrap heap when Jazz finds out. Otherwise, enjoy and socialize."

"Right." The mechling bounded away, quickly insinuating himself into the first group of flyers he came across, charming their designations and occupations from them quickly.

Here he had learned well from his creator and his time spent helping at the bar. The talent for making mecha feel at ease around him was one that came naturally, and had been honed carefully.

By the time he departed from the group all of them were laughing, and Flash was smiling as he picked out his next target. Scanning the energon table he noticed a small group of grounders and headed in that direction, hoping for fare more suited to his frame type and wanting to get a feel for others that might be in a situation similar to his own. He made his way around the gathering, catching occasional glimpses of Thundercracker or Silverbolt as they socialized. It felt good to help mecha feel good, especially on an orn where one should be looking forward to the coming vorn.

Gradually he made his way back to his mate-to-be, pulling two energon confections from his subspace. One he was rather sure he remembered as Thundercracker's favorite, the other was a glowing orange variety that he had never seen before and selected for himself.

With a purr of happiness he slipped up beside the Seeker, field extending to the touch the large mech before the empty hand came in contact with one of the broad, strong wings. They pressed into the touch with a welcoming flare of Thundercracker's field. The display open for all to see that Flash had trine-rights with the Winglord.

Flash settled around by Thundercracker's side, holding up the confections for inspection and approval. "For now, or for _later_?" He asked.

The Seeker's field gave no doubt as to his approval to Flash, and his wings told everyone else. "Now, if you'd like. That one is not strong."

Flash laughed and held up the one that he had selected for Thundercracker the Seekers lips, offering. Thundercracker purred and accepted the treat, licking Flash's fingers in the process.

Flash was just getting ready to try his own when another Seeker dropped from the sky, his optics focused on the pair and his expression full of disdain. "No wonder the Seeker kind has yet to start rising back to our former glory." He snarled.

"Yet every vorn you fail to drive me to ground," Thundercracker reminded Stormchaser with a deep, dark rumble of his engines. "You don't have the processors to understand how to lead."

Stormchaser scoffed. "The Aerial I can understand, but _wing rights_ to a _grounder_?" 

Thundercracker deepened the rumble of his engine, setting everyone in feeling range on edge without quite knowing why. "Wing rights to a Zastario, the Prime's first creation."

"So take him as an honored lover. A mate." Stormchaser stood his ground, even if his resolve seemed to be crumbling a little. "The Winglord has just as much right to a toy as anyone."

"A toy?" Thundercracker raised an optic ridge, graciously not taking offense when he had every right to. "The Prime's first creation, the only way Seeker kind will flourish again, as my toy? No, Stormchaser. I have more respect for the creator of my followers than that."

"Do you? When you will not even follow the ways as old as our kind?" The dark Seeker question, though he was starting to shift uneasily. His words were drawing a crowd, and he was suddenly reminded that the Winglord was not the only Seeker courting a grounder.

Deep red optics flashed. "I honor Seeker ways as best I can in this world. I honor the Prime because we _must_ if we wish to continue. I will honor the mech who will ensure there _are_ Seekers in the next generation. Grounder or flier, the one mecha who can ensure our kind continues deserves all due respect. I am the Winglord. I will take the trine we need to remain strong."

"As you say." Stormchaser growled, finally looking down and away. "We will see what the next vorn holds, when the Rite is flown again."

"As we always do," Thundercracker agreed, as he had to agree. Yet he'd maintained his right to be Winglord with an Aerial afraid of heights, even if Silverbolt was getting much better about it, and without an Action of any kind for over a century and a half. He had no doubt he would maintain the political support he needed for some time to come.

Stornchaser took his leave, and the crowd that had gathered dissipated slowly, many Seekers taking a moment to offer Thundercracker a salute of support, careful to include the large aerial at his back and the grounder pressed against his side as well.

After they had some space, a black and purple Seeker walked up and regarded Flash with a mixture of undirected anger and understanding. "So you're my replacement."

"Skywarp," Thundercracker greeted his former trinemate. "Yes, Flash will be my Action."

The black and purple Seeker shifted his gaze to Thundercracker. "Politics _suck_."

It earned a chuckled from Thundercracker. "You'll get no arguments from me."

"I'm sorry." Flash apologized to Skywarp, his field reflecting his sincerity, even if there was nothing that he could have done about the fact.

He just snorted through his vents and flicked his wings in a shrug. "Hope you're smart, youngling. Takes a lot to keep the Winglord sane."

"I...thank you?" Flash looked up at Thundercracker from his place at the Seekers side, putting that thought deep in his processor to ask about later. 

The blue Seeker nodded to him and the conversation quickly brightened when he diverted it to Skywarp's new trine and the quality of the winds.

* * *

Flash curled up against his intended mate, lust and desire well sated after the multiple rounds of interfacing he now had the stamina for.

That learning process had been fun, and one that he was still expanding on every chance that he got. Other learning though, he was discovering, was not nearly as enjoyable, and as he ran a hand thoughtfully along the dark wing nearest him Skywarp's comment rose to tease at him once more.

Thundercracker nuzzled him. "What is on your processor?"

"That comment that Skywarp made, the one about keeping the Winglord sane?" Flash shifted around in Thundercracker's arms so that he was looking into the strong red optics. "What did he mean by that?"

Thundercracker hummed his understanding. "How much have you been told about Starscream?"

"Only a little. Mostly that you and he were once trine mates, and the mecha that fought in the war didn't really survive it." Flash answered honestly. There was a moment as Flash weighed his next words. "I've heard him referred to as crazy more than once, when mecha thought I wasn't paying attention."

"By the end, he was completely and utterly insane. Not as far gone as Megatron, but close. We did our best to stabilize and support him like trinemates should, but it was never enough," Thundercracker's grief was quiet but open in his field. "Starscream and I were both mangled by what Megatron forced on us. He was a Vision, a promising one. Brilliant, beautiful, confident of his place and skill. Then Megatron made him Air Commander, and he had to become the Winglord, an Order. It's enough to make any Seeker lose their grip on reality. Then Megatron compounded the problem by creating a trine for him with no understanding of what made a real trine. Skywarp is an Action. Always has been. He did well enough. But I was forced to become the Vision of the trine. In public Starscream was the leader. In private I was as often as not, at least at first. The more his coding degraded and warped, the more he thought himself an Order even alone. It was painful to watch, and it is Skywarp's only experience with being close to a Winglord."

"But things are better now. You are better. I fit in with what you need, like Silverbolt?" Flash asked, pressing a little with a need to know that ran spark deep.

"Yes," Thundercracker assured him. "My coding will never fully recover, and it is likely that a glitch will eventually develop, but you have the makings of a fine Action and he is settling in nicely as a Vision. Damage is being repaired, and far more importantly there no so more damage being done. Even Stornchaser's challenge, rude as it was, is helping solidify the Order coding as dominant."

"So an Order is supposed to be the Winglord?" Flash asked, settled by the reassurance and more curious now about coding and politics that had meant little to a youngling grounder when he had begun spending time with Thundercracker.

"Yes, the Order is always the trine leader, the political one," Thundercracker nodded. "As the leader of the ruling trine, a Winglord has always been an Order. It does nasty things to a mecha's coding to have to be something they are not."

"And what does it mean, to be the Winglord, and part of his trine?" Flash asked, freeing one hand to run affectionately over Thundercracker's armor.

The Seeker had to think for a while and enjoyed the attention as he worked to put the thoughts in order. "To be the Winglord is to be the leader of the Seekers. It's not unlike being Prime, I believe, though as you heard and have seen there can be challenges to the Winglord's position that the Prime will never face. It is my duty to protect the interest of my people and city in the government and with the Prime. I enforce the harshest of the penalties when they are needed. Make, review and remove laws. Appoint and oversee the government. In war I must lead from the front line with my Action. I am the final mediator of disputes. There is much to do, and it all smelts down to ensuring the future of our kind.

"As my Action, you will be expected to oversee the training of youths to fight and fly, and to assist me with whatever I might need. Primarily the Winglord's trine is there to make sure he can make it through the next orn."

Flash considered that for a long time, trying to sort through it all and organize it in a processor that was still honestly trying to define what his functioning was on a personal level. "I need to be able to fly." He finally concluded.

"You don't _have_ to fly," Thundercracker insisted. "But I won't tell you it won't be useful on many levels if you could."

"It would make your functioning better. And mine too." Flash said, acknowledging the coding that he was slowly starting to recognize every time it tweaked a personal desire or instilled a new one in him that was related to his intended mate.

"Yes, but you're a grounder. Grounders don't get flying alts." Thundercracker held him. "Sideswipe's as close as your ... grounders get."

"There are mecha that fly and drive." Flash argued, a flare of stubbornness rising in him. "We-I-can at least look into it."

"Triple changers," Thundercracker nodded. "A few did survive. I don't know how they're made, but we can ask. If anyone knows, it will be Ratchet."

"Will you come with me to ask him?" Flash asked, wanting Thundercracker to be there too, needing the Seeker's support and approval more than he needed his creators these orns.

"Of course," Thundercracker kissed him softly. "If he thinks he can do it, I'll be there whenever you want me."

The mechling purred in delight, his touches becoming more suggestive, asking and offering and Thundercracker rumbled agreeably. With a smooth motion he rolled Flash to his back and extended his spike to rub eagerly against Flash's interface panel.

"Open for me, my Action," he rumbled deep in his chassis. "I'll make you scream louder than the wind."

"You know I love it when you do." Flash purred, valve cover opening at the command and the scent of warm lubricant filling the air. "You are so good to me. _Want _to take care of you."__

"It is mutual," Thundercracker promised as he shifted and easily pressed into the tight, slick valve with a moaning shudder. His mouth pressed against Flash's in a hungry kiss the muffled their pleasured sounds as he began to thrust, deep and strong.

Swirls of good emotion, deep and caring, reached out to wrap around Thundercracker as his lover responded. Skilled slender fingers found their ways into joints and seems as their frames moved in sync, striving for shared pleasure willingly given.

* * *

Flash worked quietly, listening to his creator hum softly as Jazz worked across the bar straightening up some seating that had been moved around the night before for cleaning. This was familiar, safe, helping his creator work in what he had always been told was Jazz's dream. A place where the social mech could interact with mecha in a setting that was fun and profitable. But as Flash watched his creator work, he had to wonder for the first time how well he really knew his own creator.

"What's bothering ya?" Jazz asked smoothly without breaking his movements. "TC's still being good to you, I hope."

"Thundercracker is wonderful." Flash said, smiling softly as he momentarily allowed his processor to linger on his mate. "Yeah, something is bothering me, but it's not him."

"What then?" Jazz prompted gently as he worked his way closer. Privately he was pleased at how well the relationship seemed to be going.

"Things that mecha are saying when they are around me, on purpose so that I will hear them. Even if they pretend otherwise." Flash started.

Jazz's focus shifted fully to his creation, work forgotten. "What about?" he asked gently as he drew Flash against him. Flash melted into the warm comfort of his creator's field, the first place that he could ever consciously remember feeling safe. The one that had been there his entire existence to shield and protect him from all danger, real and imagined.

"Rumors about you. How dangerous you were, are, and the influence you are on me." Flash looked up at Jazz. "Everyone is so afraid of you. Even Thundercracker. Did you really deactivate that many?"

Jazz let out a resigned x-vent. "Yes. I likely did all they let you hear and far more, far worse. It was what I was trained to do, reformatted into. I was a saboteur, the best in the war. But to become the head of Special Operations, I had to know _everything_. I did it all; scouting, spying, assassination, sabotage, undercover work, interrogation. I was _good_ at it all too."

"Why did you do it?" Flash asked, the answer to this question more important to the mechling than the fact that Jazz had done all of those things.

"It was my function during the war, my part to play in making a better future," Jazz said softly. "It's not much of an excuse, but it's about the only one anyone has. We did what we thought we needed to for the future, or just to survive."

Flash nodded, settling deeper in his creator's arms. "Why is Thundercracker afraid of you?"

"Because I kinda never dissuaded anyone of the notion that all those kills and wiped memories that ended the war were my doing," he said softly. "Though maybe he's scared of me in general. I ... Meister... has been a scary thing to Cons for a long time. Well earned reputation too. He knows I'm not happy that you never really had a choice with your future, with who your mate was going to be. The freedom to be who and what you want was what I spent the entire war trying to win the right to, and now my first creation, probably my only creation, can't even choose who to love. He probably expects that I'd make him _go away_ if you weren't happy."

Flash shivered in Jazz's embrace, the layers of emotion in his creator's field tugging at his spark. "Would you make him...go away? Just because of me?"

"If you were unhappy enough, if he hurt you, yes," Jazz told the truth. "The only mecha more important to me is Prowl. I'd do anything for either of you to be happy."

"Prowl...my carrier." Flash pondered that. In the back of his processor he had always known that he was secondary to his creator's mate. Not by much, but that he was. "Why did he not want me?"

"He ... Prowl was created to think, to process and analyze a massive amount of information and do it fast. His processors pushed the limits of what a mid-sized frame can support," he started at the core cause in his understanding. "He wasn't asked if he wanted to be a carrier, if he was able to do it." Jazz rested for forehelm against Flash's. "It wasn't you, it was never _you_ , but he had nothing to spare. So all the energy, the resources that were required for the carry reduced his ability to think. To perform his very function. It terrified him. It ate away his will to keep existing, hurt him on a level I have nothing to compare to. Those last metacycles he was in stasis because he couldn't cope with the pain anymore."

"He didn't want me." Flash said slowly. "He couldn't have me." It was the easiest way for the mechling who had only ever wanted love and approval to process that. "You always said he went into stasis, and that it was his own choice."

"It was, but it was also the only choice," Jazz said softly. "I think he would have loved you if it hadn't been so hard on him, if I'd been your carrier. I wanted him to come around so badly, to see you for the wonderful spark you are, to see how much of _him_ is in you. He still can't. He can only remember how you were created and what the carry did to him."

"Am I like him?" Flash asked, curious. "I hear mecha say that too." And he was honestly not sure that it was a good thing some times, from the rumors that he heard of his carrier and the one time he had seen the mech in action.

"Yes, Brightspark," Jazz smiled down at the brightly colored mechling. "You are smart, you think quick, but most of all, you want to help others, you want to do the right thing. All the best things about him I see in you."

Flash's field brightened at the praise, and the honesty behind his creator's words. "What about the other mecha? My Zastario contributors. I've only ever heard a little about them, but I heard that you did something to them. Something...wrong. Why?"

Jazz's field flinched away, though his frame continued to hold Flash. "Because they hurt Prowl deeply when you were kindled. They ... _took_ him, frame and spark. Your creation was the first time anyone had touched his spark. It was the first time anyone other than I had touched him at all. All those rules about who you can kindle with and how you go about it are there because even though they were Autobots, they didn't ask if he wanted to carry, or if he was okay with them touching him. It wasn't right, the way I did it, but I couldn't let the rape of my mate go unpunished."

Flash curled in on himself, trembling slightly in his creator's arms. "I'm not like that," he denied. "Some mecha look at me like I'm bad, evil, but I'm not. We wont!" He shook in Jazz's arms as things started to snap into place, connections forming in his processor that had not existed before.

"No, you aren't like that. You're a good spark, a good mech," Jazz repeated several times until his creation settled a little. "That Prowl didn't want what happened isn't well known, Flash. He lied to everyone and said he volunteered. I'm the only one he admitted the truth to, though Optimus, Ratchet, Red and Inferno worked it out. Others might have. Thundercracker probably did, knowing what he does of pre-peace Zastario culture and rules. But there's a long, long history of thinking Zastario are monsters, and it won't go away quickly. All you can do against it is be the mech you are and prove through your actions that they're wrong."

Flash finally settled in his arms once more. "I will." He nuzzled at his creator like a sparkling for moment, seeking comfort in the motion, before looking up at Jazz. "I still want to meet him some orn, my carrier."

"You can meet Prowl," he promised softly. "I think he's recovered as much as he's likely to. Just ... don't get your hopes too high. I don't want you hurt if he can't embrace you as anything more than a member of society."

Flash contemplated that. "That's... all right. _I_ want to meet him." The mechling was willing to admit to himself that it might be a selfish desire, but he wanted to try and see for himself what his creator saw in this mech he called mate.

Jazz nuzzled him affectionately "I will arrange it. Now, are there any other rumors or questions that I can answer?"

"Those were the important ones." Flash answered, much more at ease and secure in his world once more. Curiosity flickered in his field as he delved into a more personal question. "Can my carrier love?"

"Yes, he can love very deeply," Jazz showed his own sappy smile at the thought of his mate. "He loved me enough to break his own programming without saying a word of it. I didn't know until so much later how much it took for him to kiss me, much less everything else he's given me. He is a wonderful mech, Flash. He just doesn't let many close to him."

"Good." The mechling declared, the single word summing up so much as he hugged his creator and then relaxed. "I guess we need to finish cleaning up?"

"It would be good," Jazz chuckled and let him go. "We can talk more tomorrow if you want. After that pretty Seeker of yours relaxes you for recharge," he winked his visor at Flash with a playful grin.

Flash didn't try to smother his answering grin, or the rev of pleasure from his engines at the suggestion. "Is carrier good to you too?" He asked, teasing as he moved across the room to resume arranging empty cubes for the evening.

"He's very, very good to me," Jazz flashed a dreamy grin at his creation. "He's the best."

Flash groaned at the expression and pretended to bury himself back in his work, still smiling.

* * *

Flash's field was swinging between exited and concerned as he made his way in to Ratchet's office. The comfort of Thundercracker at his shoulder helped some, but it still didn't stop him from worrying. He wanted this, on several levels he had come to realize, and after planning and anticipating his greatest fear was that the medic was going to tell him it was impossible.

"It's not impossible," Thundercracker reassured him with field and voice. "It has been done, it can be done again. It's merely a question of the level of danger and if that is too high."

"It can't be too high. I'll try it." Flash said.

"It can be," Thundercracker quivered his wings in a firm disagreement as they entered the hospital and nodded to the receptionist before continuing to Ratchet's office. "You are half of only two breeding pairs. Our race's future depends on your survival."

"There will be more." Flash said, more confident of that fact than he probably should have been as the door to Ratchet's office opened to admit them. 

The old CMO was at his desk, watching him with critical optics. "That had better not mean you've already bonded and plan to kindle."

Flash smiled at Ratchet, his field easing a little as a hint of laughter wormed its way in. "No, we haven't. My creators would be screaming if we had."

"At least you two have _that_ much common sense," Ratchet huffed and motioned them to sit down. "Now, how about explaining what brought this idea on."

The brightly colored mechling settled easily into one of the seats in Ratchet's office, more comfortable around the medic than most. He'd had no reason to fear the CMO in his short existence, and no reason to feel the need to start now. "Trine. If I am going to be Thundercracker's Action, I need to be able to fly. And...I want to be able to fly with him."

Ratchet's sharp gaze went instantly to the Seeker. "Is that so?" He asked, everything in his manner perfectly level for the moment.

"I did not bring it up once," Thundercracker dropped his wings sharply and lifted his hands. "It's all his idea."

"It's true, Ratchet." Flash said, drawing the medic's attention back to him. "It was my idea. Right down to seeing if it is possible for me to have three alts, like some mecha I've heard of."

"Triple Changers," Ratchet grunted. "It would be easier to reformat you into an Aerial, and even that's dicey."

"Why?" Flash demanded, attention homed in completely on the mech seated across from. "You can do it, right? What's the risk?"

"The known, proven risks include deactivation, insanity and an inability to transform," Ratchet said bluntly. "Mind you, those were results when the procedure itself worked. There's good reason Cybertronians are not all triple changers or Aerials. It is far more than a physical mod. The coding changes are extensive."

"I can handle them." Flash insisted, all the confidence of youth behind his words. "What do I need to do? Where do we start?"

"I'll be the judge of that," Ratchet growled at him. "We start with you convincing me that it's worth the time to try."

Flash sat back in chair, clearly broadsided by the demand. "I want...I _need_ this. Or at least try." Coding and a pull from his spark fed the need flaring bright and desperate in his field. His mate-to-be needed him at his best, as perfect as he could be. And to Flash that translated as being the wingmate Thundercracker needed, on the ground and in the air.

Ratchet focused on Thundercracker. "How much of this is coming from his special coding?"

"Most of it, probably," the Seeker said quietly. "The _need_ is, even if the _want_ might not be. I won't lie and say things wouldn't be easier if he could fly."

"And by fly, you mean fly fast," the medic grumbled. "I can't even attempt such an operation until you're ready for your adult frame. Even if it does work, you're going to be _small_ in both alts. If you look at the triples on record, they're big mecha. Springer's the smallest I know of. Most are the size of Astrotrain or Blitzwing. Your spark won't support a frame much larger than Jazz's."

"Of course fast." Flash said, his tone indicating that anything else wasn't even an option. "And I don't really want to be big." He looked down over his own frame. "I like the way I am. I just need to fly. And waiting...is okay. If that is what it is going to take, I can do that."

Ratchet opened a secure line to Thundercracker. ::If this is Zastario coding driven, it's not going to go away, is it?::

::No more than my changes to find a grounder frame attractive,:: the Seeker replied. ::I wish I could tell him to forget it, but the logic the coding has locked onto is valid. It might not be the best idea, but I can't actual argue that it wouldn't be a significant asset if he could fly well.::

With a disgruntled sigh Ratchet glared at the mechling. "I'll look into it, and into designing your alt modes. Sunstreaker'll probably do the looks, but the engineering is going to take time. It'll also delay your bonding by several vorns."

That fact made Flash squirm a little, as it registered, his attention shifting rapidly from Ratchet to Thundercracker as he sought approval for the change. Between them in quiet moments the whispers of as soon as possible had been sincere and spark felt, and conflict swirled in the mechling now.

"The alternative is to wait until after your adult upgrades have settled," Thundercracker offered.

"No," Ratchet's sharp reprimand startled them both. "The best chance at survival is while he's still maturing. The best chance is to do the rebuild instead of his adult upgrades, then his adult upgrades several vorns later."

Thundercracker nodded. "Then that's the timing."

"Okay." Flash said quickly, forcing his approval of the change into the conversation in an effort to convince Ratchet and him himself that it was for the best, no matter how different their definitions of 'best' might be.

"We'll be discussing this several more times," Ratchet said calmly, focused on Flash. "Both when I have a full understanding of what needs to happen and for design work."

"Whenever you want me back." Flash promised, obedience singing in his field, along with hope.

* * *

Flash let himself into Thundercracker's apartment, having been in possession of the codes for a while now. All of his creators had plans for the night, which meant that the mechling was free to do as pleased so long as he stayed out of trouble. They all knew not to expect him back for the night, and Jazz had merely ordered him to enjoy himself before striding off, whistling cheerfully, in the direction of his waiting mate. It had given Flash a glimpse of the 'good, loving mate' that Jazz insisted Prowl was with the embrace and kiss of greeting Prowl initiated when he thought Flash had left. The memory made him smile to himself, happy that his creator was loved.

"We have the entire apartment to ourselves tonight," Thundercracker's deep rumble greeted him from the living room where the blue Seeker was sprawled out on the largest couch, looking far more like one of the young Aerials than the old, seasoned and war-hardened being he was.

"So lots of space to play in." Flash suggested with a grin as he swayed to the couch and draped himself over the large frame, one hand already skittering suggestively over a wing.

"Yes, but I have yet to introduce you to the way Seekers mate," Thundercracker smiled when Flash scooted up for a kiss.

"Mmmmm..." Flash hummed, nipping at Thundercracker playfully. "And how do Seekers mate?"

"In the sky," he grinned, his field licking Flash's with excitement like nothing Flash had gotten from him before. "In my arms, with only my thrusters and skill with the currents to keep us alive."

The mechling in his arms jumped, startled optics locked on the Seeker's as his jaw hung open. "Sky?" He repeated, quivering with excitement at the idea.

"Yes," Thundercracker's rumble was deep and resonant, vibrating both their frames with his desire. "We fly high, mate and fall until I can catch us. The rush of wind, gravity ... Seekers are masters of the sky, even in the height of pleasure."

"I want that. Want to know what it feels like with you." Flash said, his kisses and touches matching the demand and desire in his field as his processor spun at the idea of pleasure in the sky, his only safety net the Seeker's arms, and the completely trust he had in Thundercracker.

"Then come," the Seeker groaned in anticipation and nudged his lover to stand and let him up. Hands continued to caress and entice until they reached the grand balcony and Thundercracker gathered Flash against him, chest to chest and connected both data and interface cables in a full exchange. 

"Feel what it means to be Seeker." Thundercracker leapt backwards, half falling, the rush of atmosphere across the broad surfaces of his wings transmitting directly into Flash's sensor net.

The mechling gasped, optics flashing bright as he tried to process the sensations flooding him. There was something about it, coming from and through Thundercracker, that felt so absolutely _right_.

Thrusters ignited and they shot upwards, past towers and spires until there was only open sky around them and it was darkening on the envelope of space. Thundercracker didn't even care about interfacing at the moment. The physical pleasure was nothing compared to the intensity of _perfect_ that was having his mate flying with him. It was enough that the absence of their third was of limited note.

Singing across the connection was the answering bliss from Flash, the perfection that only came from being where he was. He was with his mate, and his mate was happy on a level that touched both of their sparks.

 _This_ was why he needed to be able to fly. To complete this and make it perfect all the time. To fulfill the need in his mate to have the balanced trine that he had been denied so long.

~Shu, simply enjoy,~ Thundercracker caressed his processors across the data cable while he pulsed energy along the interface one.

~I will always enjoy being with you.~ Part of that was the coding that was speaking, but so much of his spark belonged to the Seeker that Flash couldn't really care what had initiated the feelings that were now his own. Thundercracker had earned his love and devotion in his own right. Even Jazz admitted it, and it made Optimus smile to see them together. Nothing less than a very good match would earn their open approval, and this one had.

Another pulse across the interface hardline derailed what thoughts Flash had with a moan and he obeyed his Seeker's command, surrendering to the pleasure of the interface and the added layer of complexity that was feeling the sky as Thundercracker did. It felt amazing, the rush of wind over wings, the utter lack of fear of falling, the sensation of comfort and belonging in the test of gravity vs. thrusters. Thundercracker held nothing back in his sharing as they hung there, near the envelope of space, gravity a fraction of what it was on the ground.

Flash surrendered, feeling the pleasure from his lover feed his own to overflowing, sharing with the Seeker everything that they were and the hints of what they could be. ~Thundercracker!~

~Mine,~ the Seeker moaned deeply, his overload crackling across his mate as he held his lover and they fell, oblivious to everything but the roar of the energy in their frames.

They were still falling when Flash's processor started to come back online, and the grounder in him panicked in a moment of fear, hands grabbing tighter to the Seeker he was connected to. He could feel Thundercracker come out of the overload haze with a warm fuzzy sensation and no distress with plummeting at terminal velocity.

Thundercracker simply hugged him and angled his wings to bring them upright. It increased their speed, but also brought Thundercracker's thrusters pointed down so when they fired their descent slowed.

~It feels like you enjoyed that,~ Thundercracker purred across the hardline as they settled into a controlled descent.

~Ready to do it again any time you want.~ Flash purred in reply, holding tight to the Seeker simply out of desire for the contact. 

Thundercracker chucked, but it was over the hardline that his approval flowed most clearly. ~You may well take to the flight protocols well. Most grounders panic with that fall.~

~Did for a little bit.~ Flash was willing to admit as he kissed Thundercracker and then turned his helm to look out over the city below. He could see it glittering, flush with energy, but also the rather abrupt line where it was no longer populated, then a second line where the cleanup effort ended.

~Nothing like Silverbolt did early on,~ Thundercracker chuckled, systems purring as their home tower came into view. ~He has a terrible spark for a flier, but he's adapting.~

~Why did you choose him for your trine then?~ Flash asked, turning back to nuzzle Thundercracker, warmth and affection radiating across the connection.

~Politics, pure and simple. As an Autobot officer, it helped weld the social end of the peace treaty. As a gestalt leader, he is very powerful and that makes him desirable. As an Aerial with Seeker coding, no matter how badly he takes to it, he is unusually acceptable to Seekers. Unlike nearly every Seeker and Seeker-kin left, he takes to the role of Vision quite well. That we get along surprisingly well was barely a consideration at the time, but it's what has kept us trine this long.~

~I like him.~ Flash purred, the comment coming across with multiple layers to it. Silverbolt had always been kind to him as a sparkling and a youngling, and the large aerial had welcomed him with ease when Thundercracker had brought him home, making the slow transition into his new life even easier.

~That's good,~ Thundercracker smiled as he set down, then set Flash on his pedes. Their cables were disconnected, leaving both feeling bereft of the contact for a moment before they settled fully into their singular frames once more. "What of the rest of his gestalt?"

"I get the feeling sometimes that they don't much care for me." Flash admitted as he snuggled back up against Thundercracker. "Though I don't think I have ever done anything to any of them..."

"You haven't," Thundercracker assured him as they walked inside. "Sometimes they don't care for me either. We're intruders into their bond. They were created together, bonded and gestalt from the moment they came on line. They're less than a vorn older than you too."

"They don't like Silverbolt being with us?" Flash asked, processing that and instinctively heading for the energon storage.

"Not particularly. They hadn't even settled fully as a gestalt before I was there, and now there is more. It's not unreasonable to not want to share your leader," Thundercracker explained as he walked behind Flash smoothly.

"True." Flash had to agree, seeing the point as he drew two cubes of energon and offered one to Thundercracker. "I never thought of it like that, since he has always been here."

"He won't be forever. I will be surprised if his gestalt doesn't pull him out once our first creation is mature," Thundercracker sipped on his energon, something he still reveled in the simple act of after so many centuries without a ready supply of. "A Seeker is likely to be our Vision next," he added as they settled on the couch, Flash comfortably sprawled on the larger mech's chassis.

"It won't cause a problem, you-us? Switching Visions like that?" Flash asked, tucking himself in beside the large frame, sipping at his own energon and feeling the Seeker's comfort in his own fuel. It was a shortage that mechling had never had to endure, a fear that he had not had to face in his short functioning. Wondering where his next fuel was going to come from, if any came at all, and he still did not quite grasp the comfort that many found in it, even if he was able to sense the emotion.

"No, I know how to handle the transition. It's only a problem if we're bonded to our third. Since we won't be, it will be an opening that many will be easer to see and court us for. Though most who try we'll need to turn down because they are not suitable Visions. Many Seekers will try to forsake their default coding for such an advancement."

"I'll get a say if we get a new trine member?" Flash asked, a little surprised at that information. A part of him had assumed that Thundercracker would always be the one making the important decisions, with or without Flash's input on the matter.

"Of course," Thundercracker's field flashed genuine surprise. "Even though I have the final say, you are my trine. Your opinion is important to me."

A hum of happiness radiated from Flash as he snuggled deeper into Thundercracker, smothering the small flares of unease that all of this talk of the future brought out in the mechling on occasion. 

* * *

Jazz unlocked the door to the empty bar and led his mate inside, his field a swirling mix of hope, pride, and worry. He knew that Prowl was doing this to humor him, that Prowl had no innate interest in encountering the being he had nurtured until it emerged into the world. He knew it to the very level of the spark. Yet Prowl was here, and in a respectably good mood. He didn't give off the field of one who was being dragged to a meeting unwillingly.

Jazz had taken the time to arrange things the night before as he was closing up, one area set up to accommodate a small number of a mecha in an intimate but not crowded fashion, and with a plan for various frame types to be present. "Over there love. Move things however you like. I'll get energon."

"Of course," Prowl caught Jazz's shoulder and stole a quick, warm kiss that almost made Jazz melt before slipping off to his task and leaving Jazz momentarily frozen as he tried to remember why he wasn't following that lovely aft. A playful flicker of doorwings came with the reminder and he moved to gather the cubes of high grade. Regular for himself, jet grade for Thundercracker and Prowl and a half strength mix for Flash. Something just strong enough to give each mecha a light buzz but little more. A pitcher of smooth solar mid-grade was added to the tray for after the high grade. It was good to have something in your hands and to drink, but it would keep things from deteriorating into an overcharged mess. None of them were partial to getting overcharged, Jazz knew it, but he also knew both his mate, himself and Thundercracker were very capable of unreasonable and occasionally violent outbursts when overcharged.

By the time Thundercracker opened the door for Flash a breem later, Prowl had a lap full of purring Jazz and was remarkably relaxed himself.

"Thundercracker." Jazz didn't bother moving as he acknowledged the Seeker first, then smiled at his creation. "Flash." Warmth and welcome was in the expression and his field, as well as pride as the mechling made his way into the room, confident and tall beside the mech that would be his mate.

"Creator." Flash greeted Jazz, crossing the familiar room smoothly and stopping in front of the relaxed mecha. He was curious, hopeful, and at ease.

Jazz was here, and Thundercracker was at his back, and he was finally going to get to meet the mech that so many commented was such a part of him.

Jazz tilted his helm, kissing Prowl affectionately before rising to his feet so that both could see each other clearly. "Prowl, my creation Flash. Flash, my mate Prowl."

To anyone on the outside it would have sounded like the most awkward introduction, one that should not have needed to be made. Coming from Jazz, he somehow seemed to make it sound perfectly natural.

"Flash, Thundercracker," Prowl canted his doorwings in a neutral-to-friendly manner.

"Prowl, Jazz," Thundercracker replied as he accepted the cube of jet high grade from Jazz and very slowly sipped it. It wasn't out of fear of being poisoned, but out of respect for the treat it was, even for him.

Flash took the mixed cube that he was offered as well, smiling at his creator in delight after the first sip and the immediate wash of flavor of his favorite mix of energon and additives. There were some advantages to ones creator being the owner of a bar, and this was definitely one of them.

He settled into a well broken in seat, one that if a mecha looked closely enough could see was well broken in to accommodate the mechling curled up in it. After a few quite kliks to give the high grade their host was offering the appreciation it deserved Flash finally addressed the Praxian. "Thank you for agreeing to let me meet you."

"I can refuse Jazz very little," Prowl answered evenly. "An early afternoon to see him smile that much is well worth the effort."

Flash smiled, warmth for someone who would indulge his creator like this as someone that he could like, even if they did not like him. He understood relationships so much more now, even in ones that were rather forced like the one that was developing between himself and the Seeker next to him called for understanding and compromise to make it work well.

"He's the best creator. And he knows how long I've wanted to meet you, and thank you."

Prowl inclined his helm, and this time Flash caught hints of just how uncomfortable this was for the mech in the lingering pause between them.

"Have you decided what function to pursue?" Prowl tried for something he very much hoped wouldn't lead weird places. He still did not really understand how a trine functioned in peacetime.

"Enforcer training." Flash said, his field full of confidence in his decision, and a small smile flickering across his face at the started looks the declaration earned him from both the Seeker at his side and his creator seated across from him.

"Why?" Prowl asked with more honest curiosity than expected.

"It's the best answer to what I want and need." Flash said as he shifted in his seat to lean close to Thundercracker. "I don't like being still. I don't do _well_ still."

"That's an understatement." Jazz grumbled, still processing his creations choice, but quickly started to see the logic in the choice.

"It will let me be out, about, and active. And it will let me do something good. Let me serve." That was still a need that Flash didn't quite understand, only that his spark felt good every time he thought about it, planned it. He needed to be needed, wanted. Thundercracker provided some of that, but the mechling felt that being an Enforcer would give him the chance to be so much more.

No one expected the way Prowl flinched, then dropped his optics, all but radiating shame. "I am sorry it was passed on to you."

Flash frowned, clearly confused. "What do you mean?" The surprise in his creator's expression was not lost on him as Jazz moved closer to his mate, and all of them focused on Prowl.

"The Enforcer coding. It was still active." Prowl had to work hard just to get that much out and he only barely managed. Comprehension flashed across Thundercracker's field, but he remained quiet for the moment.

"Is...I thought you would approve, be proud..."Flash said slowly, looking between his creator and his intended mate, trying to understand. It all seemed so perfect to him, and he couldn't understand why they were all so disturbed.

"I am, brightspark." Jazz assured him as he settled himself in Prowl's lap, leaning against the Praxian's armor directly over his spark. "It's just a bit of a surprise, though I guess it shouldn't be. It is a good choice for you."

"I believe Prowl is upset because he expected you to have the freedom to choose your function, since coding took so many other choices from you," Thundercracker said quietly, and Prowl nodded. "Enforcer coding is, was, a very cruel thing to exist with once you grasped there is more to existence."

Flash frowned, quiet as he started looking at his coding, following the logic trees and processes that had led him to this conclusion. 

"I don't have to be an Enforcer." He finally said. " I don't need it, not like I need Thundercracker or to fly. It just is the best option I could find."

"It will make you more content," Prowl said softly, his voice harkening back to when he thought content was all their was.

"I don't understand." Flash said, still frowning, then he looked at Thundercracker. "Is it all right, if it is what I want to do?"

"Yes," the Seeker said firmly. "Prowl's issues are his own. If you wish to be an Enforcer, it's an honorable function for an Action."

"True," Prowl added, his voice still quiet and wanting to be anywhere but with a reminder of how completely he had failed the future.

Flash visibly brightened at the acceptance. A small smile, more of a smirk, appeared on his features. "I'll be the best one."

"I have no doubt," Thundercracker hugged him sideways. "You excel at all you set your processor to."

Jazz chuckled from where he was still draped over his mate, soothing emotions running through his field in waves, trying to make Prowl understand that there was nothing to be sorry for, that everything was all right. He was rewarded, as always, with a gradual settling of Prowl's field as it was taken in and accepted. "You certainly do. And you have plenty of time to change your decision before training would even start."

Flash sighed, making a face at the truth of the statement. While all of the delay was inevitable, some of the causes were more tolerable than others. "Yes. Ratchet said my upgrades are likely to take a long time to integrate."

"Why?" Prowl asked, suddenly _very_ tense about something not even Jazz could place.

Flash finally seemed to be getting used to the Praxian's sudden swings, because this time he simply leaned closer to Thundercracker and looked annoyed about the subject. "Because he's looking into the possibility of reformatting. Into a triple changer, hopefully. Into an aerial at least, so that I can fly with my trine."

"Ah. Yes, that would delay your final adult upgrades," Prowl nodded.

"At least being in the sky is something I like, since it sounds like it's not something that you particular care for." Flash said, settling more against Thundercracker and trying to learn a little more of his carrier in a round about manner.

"I am a grounder," Prowl said simply. It was honestly all he could think to respond with.

"Through and through brightspark. He doesn't have the adventurous inclination that you do." Jazz said with a smile, fond memories that were now amusing of chasing after or searching for a sparkling that had simply raced off to satisfy curiosity. "Make him much easier to keep track of."

Flash snorted at his creator, making a face at Jazz that earned him another laugh. It wasn't lost on either of them that Prowl was quite content to allow them to have their time and fade into the background. There was a little more small talk, most of it focused on Flash's upgrades and the next time he and Jazz were going to go to the track. It was finally interrupted when an alert caught Jazz's attention and he sighed. "Time to start straightening things up so we can open for the night. Spending the night at Thundercracker's again?"

The mechling looked at the Seeker, rather sure of his welcome but still feeling obligated to check.

"Of course you are welcome," Thundercracker trilled at him, almost chiding.

Flash sidled up to him, offering a kiss in apology. "Yes." He told Jazz, smiling as his creator also rose and offered Prowl a hand that was accepted with a grace and affection that was clear even in the simple motion. As uneasy as Prowl was around Flash, nothing hindered his feelings towards Jazz.

"I'll see you next orn then." Jazz said, fingers weaving to hold Prowl's tight. "Don't get into too much trouble."

"Me?" Flash asked with his best innocent air, grin barely concealed.

"Yes, you." The retort was sharp but teasing as they were escorted to the door, only pausing when Flash stopped just before leaving to look at Prowl. "Thank you."

The Praxian frowned in confusion, but a light, desperate nudge from his mate got him to nod acceptance anyway.

Flash smiled again, all warm affection, and left with his Seeker, clearly happy with the orn and looking forward to spending the evening having fun.

* * *

"So can I move now?" Flash asked, twitching a little where he lay on the medical berth. Past experience told him that upgrades resulted in him being sore for a few orns. Ratchet had warned him that the almost complete reformat he was undergoing would likely leave him for sore for three to four times that long.

But at the moment he felt fine, and all Flash wanted to do was get up and get a good look at himself. The way Thundercracker was looking at him from the wall nearby, hungry and approving, only intensified the desire. Anything that made the Seeker look like that had to be good.

"Yes, just watch your gyros," Ratchet warned. "You've got some significant changes in your mass placement with those wings."

Flash sat up, feeling the first changes that Ratchet had warned of in the weight of the wings on his frame pulling him back. Still, he scooted to the edge of the berth without really waiting, wanting to be on his pedes.

As soon as his pedes hit the floor he swayed and grabbed the berth for balance. "Whoa."

Thundercracker was already there to steady him, long accustomed to Seekers with balance issues after repairs. "You'll get used to it."

"How long does that take?" Flash asked, seeking information around his frustration. Moving had not been this much of a challenge since his youngling upgrades.

"A few joors at most," the Seeker chuckled. "A breem at best."

"The more you practice remaining vertical and not-dizzy, the faster it'll go," Ratchet added from where he was watching carefully.

"So what I can I do that is vertical and not dizzy?" Flash asked, shifting to kiss the Seeker supporting him, his field already taking on an edge of playfulness.

"Stand still, if that's the best you can manage," Ratchet growled at him, though it didn't deter the lovers in the least. "Primus! You two are as bad as Jazz and Prowl. Walk around if you can."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?" Flash asked, moving a slow few steps supported by Thundercracker before rewarding himself by trying to steal another kiss.

"Complement," Thundercracker chuckled, deep and affectionate as he gave his mate a stable frame to lean on. "Jazz is quite notorious."

"Oh? Do I get stories?" Now that he was older the stories of his creators past were so much more interesting, Flash never passed up a chance to ask. "I'll keep moving." He added, matching words and action with steps that were steadily growing more confident and stable.

"You know how your creator enjoys speed?" Thundercracker trilled with deep amusement. "It's a lesser-known secret that while Jazz _likes_ speed, Prowl _loves_ it. Get him all riled up. So Jazz gets him to chase him all over the badlands until Prowl can catch him. I've watched a few times. It's quite the sight."

There was a moment of slack jawed surprise from Flash, and he looked at the medic, looking for confirmation of this fact. "Really?"

"Technically, no," Ratchet smirked at the slightly startled and very annoyed look Thundercracker gave him. "Oh, that's what they do, all right. But it's not the speed that gets Prowl going, it's the chase. He was created an Enforcer, designed from the core out to notice, track, chase, capture and process criminals. He gets riled up by the chase and capture."

"Process...is that what he does to my creator?" Flash sniggered, his grip on Thundercracker loosening as he finally attempted some steps on his own. Once those were stable he made his way back to lean on the berth and started to investigate the rest of this frame.

"Very thoroughly processes him," Thundercracker snickered. "Rather like how thoroughly I process you."

A klik to locate the new protocols, and his attention shifted to the Seeker as he tested his wing controls for the first time.

A deep rumble of approval came from Thundercracker. "You and Sunstreaker did design an attractive frame."

Slender, arched wings flared higher as Flash swelled with pride at the approval. They continued to move, flashing in the bright overhead light, as Flash investigated and tested the command sequences that would control everything from his non-verbal communication on the ground with them to his control in the sky when he finally took to the air.

Ratchet humphed. "It looks good. Now try to transform into a car."

Flash stepped away from the berth and initiated the requested transformation sequence. This one was familiar enough, the ground alt very similar to the one that he had worn since his mechling upgrades.

The shifts were different, added parts folding and altering where none had been before, but in less than two kliks a sleek, high powered race model was sitting in the middle of the medical room.

"That hurt." Flash griped.

"How much?" Ratchet tensed and began running deep scans of the young mech. He relaxed slightly when nothing major turned up.

"Normal ache." Flash admitted. "Just not fun."

"All right. Any errors or issues with the sequence?" Ratchet demanded.

"No Ratchet. There were no errors, protests, or any sort of warning when I transform." Flash replied dutifully, clearly teasing the medic.

"Transform to root mode, then to your air alt," Ratchet ordered. "No changing directly from one alt to another until your final adult upgrades."

Flash grumbled but obeyed, shifting back into his root form and then folding into his aerial form for the first time. He settled on spindly landing gear and felt the very, very different mass and balance distribution in this form. His ground alt was fairly compact. This took the same mass and spread it out, much more like his root mode.

"Not a Seeker, but very sleek," Thundercracker rumbled with undeniable approval.

"I told him fast." Flash said, shifting around and testing all of his joints, looking for stiffness or catches without Ratchet having to prompt. This routine was starting to get familiar rather quickly. "Glad you like it." He added, voice taking on a shyer note.

"You'll be fast," Thundercracker agreed and walked up to ghost his hands along the leading edge of the wings, swept down as they did in the alt mode, rather than being upside down like his own. It was a more complicated transformation sequence, but the results were undeniably appealing. The entire frame shuddered under his touch, a gasp of surprise escaping the mechling at the added sensations running through his sensory inputs. "I'm going to enjoy chasing you down _often_ ," Thundercracker rumbled deeply, his field giving no chance of mistaking what being caught meant.

"Primus save me from 'facing-addicted mecha," Ratchet muttered, but he didn't stop them.

"You have to catch me first." Flash reminded him, vocals shaky still from the touch on his wings and the flare of desire that rose in his own field at the implication. With another shiver he transformed back to his root form, leaning into Thundercracker once more for support.

"The orn I _can't_ is the orn you will lead the trine," Thundercracker grinned and tipped Flash's face up for a heated kiss that left his lover trembling.

"All right, that's enough," Ratchet took a threatening step forward. "No scrambling his gyros before he's even settled them."

"Of course," Thundercracker said magnanimously and stepped back, leaving his lover to whine at the loss.

Ratchet focused on Flash. "I can pick up no reason you can not recover in your own berth. Just _try_ not to be too active until the aching stops."

Flash glared at the medic. "You don't believe in easy orders, do you?"

"If you feel good enough to 'face, you won't need the pain blockers," Ratchet shrugged, his first lesson delivered and about to be reinforced. "Go on, get out of my hospital."

"Glitch. He has no idea how hard it is to resist you, does he?" Flash grumbled to the Seeker whose side he was tucked protectively against as they made their way out.

"He knows full well," Thundercracker rubbed Flash's side. "He's entirely too familiar with lovers who need _lessons_ on how to behave. I have some painkillers you can use."

"And how am I supposed to behave?" Flash asked, relaxing into the touch and the promise of the blockers if he needed them. "Follow his orders to the glyph?"

"Well, yes," he chuckled as they reached the roof. He easily scooped his lover into his arms and took off. "He's also used to dealing with mecha with very little respect for pain. It's not uncommon for warriors to barely notice pain."

Flash nuzzled at the Seeker's neck from the strong arms, safety and security for as long as he has known the Seeker. "No pain. And sometimes the best way to deal with stiffness is to work through it. Gently?" He suggested.

"It can be, but you really should rest and let your systems settle," Thundercracker told him. "You shouldn't pick up the bad habits of warriors. You don't need them."

Flash vented softly, but it was the sound of surrender. "Can we stop before going home?"

"Of course. Where?" Thundercracker asked despite his surprise.

"Want to show my creators while I still feel decent, and before I spend the next several orns groaning while things settle." Flash said hopefully.

"Of course," Thundercracker altered his flight path and sent messages ahead so they could all meet at once. The mechling-almost-adult in his arms was quivering with excitement when the designated meeting spot came into view, a park outside the government sector, along with all three of his waiting creators and they came in for a landing.

Thundercracker smoothly set Flash on his pedes and remained close so Flash could use him for support. Flash accepted the support of the Seekers arm, but turned to face his creators and flared his wings wide, standing tall and proud.

Jazz was the first to react with a low, impressed whistle that made Flash preen and Thundercracker smile slightly.

"You look _very_ good," Elita One smiled warmly and walked up to put her hands on her creation, turning him this way and that as the mechs watched her indulgently.

"I must agree. Sunstreaker and Ratchet do good work, and you wear it well," Optimus smiled.

"Ratchet give you the normal spiel and restrictions?" Jazz asked as he circled his creation, admiring the changes and taking a few images to save.

"Yes." Flash sighed. "And no pain blocks this time." 

"What!" Elita One's optics flashed dangerously.

"He was a little too responsive to being kissed," Thundercracker told her.

"That's no reason! He's a mechling."

"He's a traumatized war medic who just sees another set of bad habits in the making. I have enough," Thundercracker promised her.

"You make sure of it," she rumbled fiercely, earning a smile from her mate.

"I will. He won't hurt or be over active," Thundercracker promised.

"Trust Ratchet. He doesn't do anything he doesn't think is necessary." Jazz said firmly, speaking to both Elita One and Flash as he reached into his subspace and pulled out a datapad, offering it to Flash. "This might help too. Congratulations."

Flash took the pad, turning it on with a flick of his finger, and his field flaring in delight as the new game and a list of the files it contained flitted across the screen. "Thank you creator."

"We sent our gifts ahead," Elita One smiled warmly, hugging her creation before Optimus, then Jazz got their turn. "Behave, no matter how much you want to play."

"I'll be good, ma'am," Thundercracker chuckled when she gave him a _look_. "I really should get him home and resting."

"Go on then," Optimus agreed.

"Be good mechling." Jazz said, tapping his creation on the nose with a smile before stepping back so that Thundercracker could move in again.

"I will," Flash promised, relaxing into his mate's grip as he was picked up and once more in the air.

* * *

The sky overhead was darker, more threatening that Flash could ever remember it looking when he was to fly. Nerves were causing his entire frame to shake just a bit, and he was glad that no one else was around to see as he tried to get them under control. So much rested on this flight, this chance to prove himself not just worthy of being Thundercracker's mate, since that was a given, but to fly with him as trine.

To court the Seeker as his laws, their laws, demanded. To catch his optic and prove himself worthy to fly not just at the Seeker's wing, but as the Action of the Winglord's trine. It would require agility, which he had in abundance, but also endurance, which wasn't his strong suit.

"You've learned to fly well," Thundercracker said calmly as he walked up and put a hand on Flash's shoulder. "Avoid the lightning and you'll do fine. I know you won't crash."

"I had the best teacher." Flash said quietly. "And I don't want to disappoint him. Or my lover."

"I'm sure you won't," he offered a small smile and guided Flash to the balcony edge while Silverbolt made a determined stance on Thundercracker's right. All around them, watching from every balcony, roof and street were Seekers and Seeker kin. Still far less than a hundred strong, they could all easily find a place where they could see their Winglord take flight. "Wait a full klik, then join us."

With that last instruction, Thundercracker launched into the air and roared to his kin, calling them to the sky.

The roar of thrusters was deafening, almost drowning out the cries of mecha as they took the skies in a blaze of wings and fire. Internally Flash counted the time down, but his optics were focused on the daring dance taking place overhead as Seekers jostled for position near the Winglord. Silverbolt was forced to out maneuver several, but he held his place on the Winglord's right.

The klik came and went, and with one last deep vent to settle himself Flash stepped off the firm footing of the balcony edge, spread his wings, and took to the sky. He was a bit surprised when many gave way without contest, but the closer he drew to Thundercracker the less willing Seekers were to slipping aside for him. He knew where he needed to be, cleanly in line behind Thundercracker's left wing, but there were others, far more experienced fliers, who wanted that post as well. Seekers who'd wanted it for vorns and struggled every Rite of the Storm Flight for it, even though Thundercracker continually forced them to leave the position empty.

With renewed determination Flash set his sights on the spot, the position that was _his_ and put all his effort into getting there. As he ducked and wove around frames his strategy was clear. This was not a time of battle, and the use of weapons was frowned upon. It was a time for skill, and Flash used everything he had learned about the agility and small stature of his own frame to his advantage, finally wedging himself between the large green Seeker that was trying for the spot and claiming the space at Thundercracker's left for his own.

He could feel as much as teek the displeasure of the one he'd outmaneuvered, the rumble of the more powerful engines, but the wiggle of Thundercracker to accept him and the teek of it in the Winglord's field kept Flash from being physically forced from the post. The winds could not be so easily tamed. As they gained altitude they became harsher, whipping around Flash's light frame and forcing him to wobble in ways the heavier and more experienced frames did not.

Powerful engines and an exquisite sense of balance helped some, but Flash had to clamp down on the surge of fear that went through him with the first crack of lightening off his left wingtip, and the personal desire to scoot in closer to the safety of his lover and friend. Determination kept him where skill could not, somehow. It was impossibly important that he show well in this. That he _display_ for all that despite his youth and grounder heritage, that he was worthy to be the Winglord's Action with all the authority and duties that came with it.

It was that reminder of duties that set his determination further. They were watching him as the mech who would teach their future creations how to fly. The single most important thing for a Seeker to know. This was far more important than simply being good enough to lead. This was their future they were watching him for.

Every byte of code that Ratchet had managed to give him, all of the time that Thundercracker has spent with him, Flash pulled on all of it now. 

He knew that if he failed Thundercracker would not reject on him on a personal level. That if he fell he would be caught, too valuable to the future to sacrifice in the name of Seeker tradition. But that was not enough. Not enough for Flash or the spark deep code that demanded he be the perfect mate.

That alone steadied him, firmed his resolve so that the next flash of lightening brought not fear, but a flare of excitement as he not only held his own, but improved.

::You fly well for your age,:: Thundercracker commented casually over an open, but not general broadcast comm line. His tone not that of a lover but of a prospective wingmate.

::I had a good mentor. And I want to learn to fly better. Where else but with the best?:: Flash asked, wavering a hair as a strong blast of wind hit the formation but leveling just as quickly.

::You aim high,:: Thundercracker rumbled with amusement and pushed higher, deeper into the storm's swirling, lashing winds. ::Follow if you can.::

It was a challenge, and one that took most of the concentration that Flash had left. There was enough to spare to growl as another Seeker boldly rose to try and force him down, but little else when it was all he could do to keep up with Thundercracker and mask the fact. It was hard enough that he didn't realize that his mate was careful not to push either of his trinemates too hard. Flash was inexperienced, small and light. Silverbolt was designed for speed in clear skies and was still largely afraid of heights and harsh conditions. Yet while Thundercracker pushed them both, showed them off in a way, he tempered his own skill in the air so he didn't lose either.

The wind lashed at Flash, buffeting him and forcing him from formation. It was exhausting just trying to keep his place and he abruptly realized why Thundercracker had worked so much on his endurance and fidgeted about efficiency in the design. It wasn't a holdover from the wartime mentality. It was knowing what Flash would face every vorn of his existence.

Warmth spread through Flash, pushing him to dig deeper, into the reserves that had not been part of his original design and added when Thundercracker had insisted that they would be necessary. With a determined whine he pushed his engines, angling back to his mate's wing before another one of the circling Seekers, the few bold enough to follow them this high, could work their way in.

This was his. Needed, wanted, _had to be_. But the only way to make it right was to prove it, and Flash was determined to do just that.

He brushed close enough to catching a passing teek of his mate and warmed more at the approval he clearly there for him. One of the few fliers up here that wasn't after Flash's position sliced by sideways with a gleeful laugh that was almost manic.

::Skywarp, you crazy glitch!:: Thundercracker snarled, but with harmonics of affection and tolerance that one might have for an adult creation or younger sibling.

* * *

Buy the time the ritual was over Flash's entire focus had narrowed to Thundercracker's left wing tip and maintaining his place there. The lightening, the winds, they were all things his processor and frame simply reacted too without conscious thought any more because he didn't have the energy to spare to contemplate them.

He was so focused that it almost didn't register when Thundercracker changed his flight path, angling in for a landing.

Flash just barely managed to keep his place and his pedes as he transformed and touched down, frame swaying a little. He wasn't aware enough to catch the fierce kiss that Thundercracker and Silverbolt shared, but when Thundercracker turned his attention to him with strong arms and intense arousal his spark and frame responded first, finally followed by his processor as he leaned into the contact.

"I did it." He whispered, part statement and part question as he teeked the pride and joy in the Seeker holding him.

"Yes, now I will claim you," the blue Seeker rumbled eagerly and pulled Flash inside, towards their berth. "We bond tonight, if you can manage it."

Eager surprise rippled through Flash, even as he leaned on the Seeker for support. "Energon." He requested, fuel to see him through this next part. Even if he hadn't wanted to bond with all his spark, the code did. And the code was so much nicer when it was obeyed.

"As much as we need," Thundercracker claimed another kiss and reached for a cube from the berth's side table. "Drink, and lay down," he rumbled, nearly a command.

Flash had to stop himself from chugging the energon when the first taste of it hit his glossa. As much as his systems were demanding the fuel, his knew from past experience and his first painful lesson that consuming it too fast would only cause more problems, and a mess to clean up if his systems chose to purge themselves instead of process it.

He set the cube side when it was empty, shivering a little as the energon started to settle, and lay back on the berth. Thundercracker settled over him eagerly, his field a riot of _need_ about to be fulfilled.

"Mine," the blue Seeker rumbled deeply before kissing Flash as his spike rubbed against the newly upgraded adult frame, eager to feel the familiar tight heat backed by more powerful systems.

"For a long time." Flash agreed, smiling at the mech that was so much to him. Mentor, protector, lover, mate, and friend.

And very soon, to be his bonded.

The cover to his valve opened, wanting to feel again after having been denied for longer than usual. The familiar stretch and tingle of pleasure as Thundercracker pressed inside him with a groan, already trembling with the force it took to move slowly and make this first overload in Flash's adult frame a good one.

"Love you." Flash whispered, his field full of the feelings and devotion that Thundercracker had earned and cultivated in the slender mech.

"I love you," Thundercracker moaned deeply as he buried himself right to the housing and rocked his hips there, rubbing his spike housing against the nest of platelets around Flash's valve. "Feel so good."

"So do you." Flash rumbled in reply, his rising to match the motion and grind their arrays together. "Made for you, all of me." He added as his hands reached around for the broad wings flared above him. They pressed into the touch and Thundercracker pulled his hips back before driving forward again. His mouth found Flash's and glossa tangled while their mating picked up intensity.

The mech under him whimpered, but it was a sound of pleasure and desire, reflected in his action and his field as Flash sought the pleasure with the same intensity. He wanted Thundercracker. Wanted the Seeker any way the Seeker wanted him, rough and hard or sweet and gentle so long as it ended with both of them together and sated. Experience had taught him that whatever mood Thundercracker was in, it would end sated and curled together. The Seeker liked to snuggle when he was recharging.

Right now, however, all of Thundercracker's focus was on the slide of his spike and the ripple of valve wall and calipers around the sensitive length as he moved.

"Love you. Take me." Flash purred, hands sliding along the Seeker's frame, wanting and chasing the overload in bright afterglow of his success in the Rite. It was enough to break Thundercracker's will to go slow and his engines growled with the next thrust, deep and filling. The next thrust repeated it, again and again until they were clinging to each other as their frame's needs took control. Energy crackled with their cries and the clang of metal of the mating.

Flash keened and cried out, grabbed at his mate's frame and giving himself over completely, wanting this as he sought to bring that wonderful spike deep into his valve and feed the energy crackling over his frame. Thundercracker willingly gave in, flooding the tight, slick heat with transfluid that jolted every sensor it touched. The joint overload that followed was intense; Flash's vocalizer shorting out as his frame arched off the berth and locked tight while Thundercracker bellowed, his engines rattling the entire room.

"Such a good mate," Thundercracker murmured as he came back to himself, still curled around and buried deep inside Flash.

Flash relaxed back on the berth, purring in contentment as he smiled up at his mate. "Only the best for you, and for me. Deserve nothing less." He said, smug.

"And we will have it," Thundercracker nuzzled him and unlocked his joints to stretch out. He shivered with the stimulation to his spike but went against his first inclination and pulled out fully to flop onto his back and drew Flash on top of him. "You have studied the instructions on how to bond and what will happen?"

"Open my spark to yours. Touch yours." That idea was enough to make Flash quiver as his fingers traced over Thundercracker's chest from where he was sprawled over his mate. "Want to form a bond, and when we are done part of me will be with you forever."

The idea that they might fail, could fail, was something that Flash didn't even really consider except in passing to put it out of his processor. It was this or nothing, because there was no other choice.

"Good," the Seeker smiled and drew him in for a kiss with the sound of armor locks opening loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Flash hummed at the praise and the kiss, the locks on his armor coming loose and the solid looking plates parting to fold back smoothly, swirling blue light flooding the room to join the light from inside Thundercracker. Their sparks, finally free to really feel each other roared at their frames to open the chambers and allow them to touch.

The Seeker moaned, his optics rolling back as he complied, unprepared for the intensity of the demand. The slender Aerial spread over him gasped as well, fingers digging into Thundercracker's shoulders as he gave into the demand without a fight.

This is what his entire existence has been moving toward from his mechling upgrades. What his functioning had been shaped for since he had been introduced to Thundercracker. And his spark and the code were both refusing to wait any longer.

Tendrils reached out, entwined and merged, the energy frequencies modifying themselves as much as the coding of the frames they powered in anticipating this moment. The frames were rewarded with pleasure enough to white out almost all thought. It wasn't conscious thought of any sort as their sparks pulled closer, tendrils wrapping around and binding to bring the brilliant corneas of the sparks into contact, and then into one. The two mechs involved were lost in the process, driven by their sparks and coding that had long complied with. The sharing most experienced when bonding was limited but uncontested.

Their keening roar of overload held the harmonics of relief before both frames shut down to incorporate the new coding that activated, setting one as the egg-creator and the other as the fluid donor in their relationship and creating another ray of hope to light their future with.


	3. Hunting a Bonded

The apartment was empty when Prowl arrived him, which was not unusual. The main room looked normal, mostly neat with odds and ends of Jazz's scattered here and there that the mech had not yet cleaned up. What was unusual was that fact that they had made plans for the evening, and his mate was no where in sight.

Sharp optics swept the room once more, and stopped when they reached the Sovereign set that Prowl left set up, both for play and display. They had just finished a long running game the orn before, Jazz being a far better player than he first predicted, and the board had been set back up again the night before. Only now there was a piece missing from Prowl's traditional side, and a datapad in the neutral space in the middle.

When Prowl flicked the switch the screen lit up with a simple message.

_The Spark Thief has struck again. Come and get me, officer._

Prowl's engine gave a hard rev of excitement and his doorwings perked up eagerly. "As you demand, my thief."

He set the pad down and turned on heal, knowing where the trail would begin. Where it always began. The secondary gate to the city proper that separated Iacon inhabited sector from the officially abandoned lands beyond.

It was quiet outside the gate, the sounds from the recovering city inside barely audible. The landscape was ever shifting, so much of it still unstable. But it was here that it was up to Prowl to find his next clue. He saw it on the first scan, a wind chime of sorts from a building further out. Half destroyed but still visibly unique. With a hum of excitement he transformed and drove, his excitement building an ancient instincts from his early Enforcer vorns flared to life inside his cortex.

It felt _good_ , even after all this time and all the changes.

The structure had been a cultural center of sorts, and the exterior served as a reminder of one more thing that had been lost, and that even now they struggled to regain.

There was nothing on the outside for a clue, prompting Prowl to investigate further. Jazz's clues could so subtle as to be almost impossible to find or as blatant as ... a message spelled out on the floor.

 _Close, but not here._ The glyphs read, the last one trailing rather long in one direction.

Prowl's engine gave another rev of excitement and he took off, his sensors on high alert for any further clues. He enjoyed this stage, but he _loved_ the next even more than the catch.

The next clue was almost small enough to be missed, a splash of paint on a wall matching the colors of Jazz's frame and not the wall around it. Prowl paused and looked around carefully, searching for the direction he was meant to go. A glimmer of something the exact shade of Jazz's visor caught his attention at the very edge of his visual range and he went for it.

Those clues kept on, just small things that might or might not be related to his mate, until Prowl met a wall blocking his way.

Laughter rang out overhead as he searched for the next clue, and when Prowl looked up his lover was seated in the frame of a blown out window. "You found me officer. Should I return what I stole?"

He fiddled with something, the object moving just fast enough to indistinguishable before Jazz tossed it down. 

All Prowl caught was a piece of rubble the approximate size and color of his missing piece.

"I think not. Come and get it!" Jazz challenged as he vanished from view.

Prowl was up the wall to the window as fast as his mate could move and he bolted inside, eager and allowing his prey-drive complete control. It left him terribly vulnerable to traps and allies, to the environment itself, but he knew his mate and he knew the game. Jazz wouldn't choose a path where he'd come to harm. He could afford to allow his guard down and he _reveled_ in it.

Jazz ran, laughed, teased. Prowl growled, chased and called his challenge back with sirens.

This was a paradise of sorts for Prowl, a being who had existed to support his processors for so long could turn them off and give himself over to primitive, reactionary coding.

It was an incredible rush to have all the power his processors normally consumed loose in his frame and dedicated to the _chase_.

Jazz was good too, quick and nimble, and after all this time he gave his mate no advantage. Any obstacle that Jazz could find his way around or through was fair game. Any feat that he could manage in the name of escape was performed, and he dared Prowl to match him. It was a thrill for both of them, a mutual release that helped them both in so many ways to stave off the scars that the war had left on them.

It called them both back to their lives before the war, but twisted into a game with an end they both enjoyed. Speed, agility, pushing their frames in ways that didn't happen anymore, they both felt the mixture of regret and thrill when Prowl finally tackled his mate to the ground and pinned him there.

Jazz growled and struggled, an act but still with real effort behind it. "Let me go. Didn't do anything wrong!"

"Then why did you run?" Prowl purred seductively, his systems already hot and his charge crackling pleasure over internal circuits as he rubbed against Jazz shamelessly.

"Because you were chasing me." Jazz retorted, the struggles changing to match the motions of his lover, their frames creating a friction full of heat and desire.

"Maybe I wanted something else from you, my pretty thief," Prowl rumbled and claimed Jazz's mouth, hard and hot, demanding and full of desire he made no effort to hide. His spike slid out between them, drawing a groan from its owner as he rubbed it against the heated metal of Jazz's abdomen.

"You planning to punish me officer?" Jazz asked, freeing one hand to slip between them to caress the spike, leaving suggestive trails on his armor.

Prowl moaned and pressed into the touch. "If you want it to be a punishment, I can manage that. Or it can be ... something else."

"Then punish me. Do your worst." Jazz challenged, hand closing around Prowl's spike and running the length as his valve cover snapped open and his hips rolled up against his mate.

He moaned and thrust into the hand that loved him and he loved, already lost. It was only the offer of the valve it had been designed to fit into that drew him to shift. He grabbed one of Jazz's legs and lifted up, shifting the pin as he drove his spike home. Jazz's entire frame responded, arching into the thrust as his valve clamped down and his hands grabbed his mate. His mate, so perfect and so determined to please him that Jazz could only try to return it in full.

"Justice, officer. Do your duty." He challenged, valve rippling around the large spike, feeling every inch of the thickly textured length as he pulled out and thrust in again. It was a dance they'd done countless times and it never felt repetitive.

"Teach you not to steal from me," Prowl growled as his doorwings flared above them. It was exquisite, to burn off the chasing charge like this, deep inside the only mecha he wanted and feel the desire returned in full.

"Teach me then." The pinned mech challenged, hips rolling suggestively up, trying to take more of the spike already buried in him. "Show me what a bad idea it was. Or what a good one."

And his spark knew it was a good one. He loved Prowl like this. The commander that came to their berth was a fantasy that Jazz loved to play out. He loved it when Prowl 'disciplined' him.

But this was even better. This wasn't Prowl acting. This was Prowl in his element. Part of what he had been sparked for, alive and burning bright and glorious and turned on him in the best of ways.

His mate grunted above him, shaking as he tried to hold the charge in check. He never could, but he always tried. It made the second round all the more intense.

"Not sorry." Jazz gasped, his field reflecting how true the words were as his hands pulled at his mate with each thrust, wanting more and reveling in the charge that he could already feel rolling off of Prowl.

"Never sorry," Prowl grunted, no longer fully aware of what the conversation had started as. "Love you!" He keened and arched, his frame curling around his mate as the charge crashed through him, pumping the evidence of his overload deep into Jazz with each jerking thrust until he was trembling, almost still.

This was the best part to Jazz, having watched his mate come completely undone he was still bright with charge and Prowl responded eagerly.

"Yes." Jazz shuddered under him. His charge was on the edge of enough, but he loved watching Prowl like this. The trust and love that Prowl gave him, and Jazz treasured, evidence of the effort that Jazz was so willing to give.

"Take me, my love." He pleaded, valve rippling around the spike, milking it and begging for more. 

Prowl nodded against Jazz's neck and angled himself to thrust deep and hard before committing himself fully to making Jazz scream. It was an art he had perfected, drawing the cries of bliss from his lover with each motion of his frame, knowing just how hard and where to strike to send surges of pleasure through his mate. And Jazz let him know every time, responding in every way possible- frame, field, and voice.

Vocals that shorted out completely with the pinned mech's first overload.

Prowl groaned in bliss that had nothing to do with the charge crackling in and against his frame and continued to thrust, intent on driving Jazz to a second peak before he surrendered himself to his own.

"My love." Jazz moaned, all illusion of the chase gone and Jazz intimately aware of who was above him as his processor caught up with his frame once more. "Take me, mark me, yours." He requested as his hips rolled up to meet each thrust.

"Always mine," Prowl growled in reply. His hands grabbed Jazz's wrists to pin them above the mech's helm under one hand. His other hand moved between them to rub against Jazz's spike cover as he continued to thrust into the exquisite tight heat. His mate moaned again, the sound one of pure bliss as the cover opened at Prowl's touch and Jazz's frame shivered in anticipation of everything his mate could offer.

As his fingers coaxed Jazz's spike out he leaned in and claimed a kiss that embodied all the passion and devotion he felt for his mate. His willingness to do anything to please him, knowing full well that Jazz felt the same. This was one of those things that he'd initiated, one of the few interfacing ideas that Jazz hadn't introduced, and it made it all the more special. He loved the feel of Jazz's spike in his hand as much as his mouth or valve, but it was the intensity of driving Jazz to overload in both valve and spike in the same moment that made Prowl giddy.

It only the matter of a few kliks before charge was dancing over Jazz's frame once more, teasing at both mecha as he howled in bliss from the duel overload and then the explosive addition of his mate's overload spilling inside him to crackle and push his charge even higher. The sheer intensity of the pleasure was something Jazz had only ever felt with Prowl, and was sure when he tried to think about it coherently that he could never feel with anyone else.

As the ecstasy gradually loosened its grip they sank down, their frames relaxing together and Prowl sprawled no top of his mate, still inside him. "Love you, Jazz."

Jazz smiled, tugging on his hands until Prowl freed them so that he could stroke his lover's face with shaky finger and then drew Prowl down for a tender kiss. "And I love you. All of you. Mine."

"Yours," Prowl purred, contentment all the way to his spark answering the claim. "Mine," he shifted for a kiss and almost reluctantly pulled out to settle to Jazz's side. "Sparks?" he murmured, nuzzling Jazz.

Joy rippled through Jazz as his hand lifted to stroke along Prowl's chest. "Always, as often as you want. I love you, and your spark."

He caught Prowl's lips for another kiss. "And my spark is yours, always."

Prowl pressed into the kiss, his fingers returning the pleasurable stroking of his chest seam. Slowly he drew away with a couple stolen kisses. "Are you sure? No romance, no hurt if you say no."

Jazz's hands held Prowl's helm steady, gaze sure as locked optics with his mate. "My spark is _yours_. From the orn you accepted me, it was yours. Forever."

Prowl leaned into the contact and dimmed his optics, his focus on the touch and their entwined fields for a long moment before he spoke. "Will you bond with me? One spark, two frames."

Shock and hope raced through Jazz in equal measure, his entire frame trembling at the words he had wanted to hear for so long. "Are you sure. Sure that _you_ want this?" He asked, spark pleading for it to be real, true.

"Yes," Prowl nodded, serious but utterly calm and centered. "I am sure. I want to be with you, a part of you always."

Jazz kissed him, the touch full of passion and desire and centuries of longing. "Yes." He sobbed quietly. "Yes. I want to bond with you. To be able to feel you forever in my spark, and to live in yours."

The soft smile that spread across Prowl's features was beautiful in its rarity. "Now." He leaned in for another kiss and rolled over to pull Jazz on top of him. "Let this hunt end with the ultimate prize."

Jazz didn't even try to find words as their lips met and his armor parted, the familiar light of his spark spilling over Prowl's form, seeming to glow brighter than ever as it surged with hope. Prowl answered with armor parting just as quickly. The paler blue of his spark reached out, eager in anticipating what was coming.

"Join with me forever, my Jazz," Prowl whispered as he reached up to help draw his mate closer. As monumental as the moment was, he felt as calm as he ever had. From programming to consciousness to spark, all of him was in full agreement that this was the right thing to do. He had no reservations. He had waited that long, to be utterly sure of himself when he made this offering.

"Yours, my Prowl." Jazz murmured, following the guidance of his mate as his spark chamber spiraled open and his spark reached the missing part that would make it whole. The pleasure of the tendrils connecting and twining together was secondary now as their sparks sought a very different kind of merge from what they were used to. Energies that had grown familiar and partially aligned over the vorns now worked to make that mesh complete enough to exchange a part of themselves forever and bind themselves into a unity that would last beyond their frames.

In that exquisite remaking the sparks exchanged far more. They offered full access to the processors and memory banks they powered, adding strand upon strand to the conscious level of the bond, the parts the frames they powered understood far better.

Prowl was now able to see into the very core of his lover. To see and _feel_ the devotion that Jazz had for those he loved. How the center of his universe was the mech now touching his spark. How everything that Jazz had done since Prowl had first let Jazz in had really been for the Praxian first and everyone else secondary.

There was another bright spot orbiting that center, and a flicker in Jazz before he stepped aside to Prowl in admission of the deep love of a creator for creation, and the joy that Flash brought to Jazz's existence. They both watched as Prowl nudged at it, but Prowl's response was simply to nuzzle Jazz with a warmth of pleasure that Jazz had that. He did not have to understand or share it to be happy for Jazz's joy.

Though Jazz had the same access to Prowl that Prowl had to him, he was both amused and warmed that there was nothing there he was not already intimately familiar with. That fulfilling _duty_ brought Prowl his greatest joy and peace. That Jazz was his most important duty, embraced as they had all been but for such different reasons. Jazz had _earned_ his place, forced his way in and chiseled out a home for himself in every level of Prowl's existence. It was not something Prowl had understood or even perceived for some time, but once he had, he was joyful for Jazz's efforts.

Another surge of joy, thanks that Prowl had forgiven him for forcing his way in and claiming the spark that he had only known he wanted, if not entirely why. The desire was something that Jazz had simply accepted, from that first addicting taste of Prowl, that he had to have. And that he would stop at nothing to attain.

Prowl's spark hummed with appreciation at that acceptance and the acting on it before they gradually settled into the stillness that was their sparks. Their processors beyond any functioning now with the height of the charge. Both frames shuddered and moaned, crackling brightly as the overload cascaded through them and the merge settled into a state that would never completely end.

Jazz came around slowly, feeling as each of his systems booted and his processor tried to pinpoint why he had gone offline in the first place through the rather scrambled sensations and images of pure pleasure. His first realization that something major had happened was the pulse of _joy-pleasure-happiness_ in his spark that he somehow knew wasn't his, though he was feeling it on his own as well. He reached out, feeling it carefully, and the sudden realization of what he was feeling, _who_ he was feeling, had him clutching at the frame beneath him and quivering with joy.

"Mine." He whispered, still in awe of what had happened, of the gift he had been given.

"Yours. Mine." Prowl purred and returned the embrace with a warm, hungry kiss. "Forever."

"Thank you." Jazz said, claiming another kiss, his spark singing with how much he loved his mate, and overflowing with joy that the feeling of warmth in his spark was there forever.

Gentle fingers stroked along the side of Prowl's helm. "Now you know how long I have been yours. No doubts, no worries."

Prowl smiled and kissed him, elated at how happy this made his mate. "Now you will always know if work is stressing or pleasuring me, and I will know the same."

"Yes, and oh the things I can plan for now." Jazz said with a smile, then reached into his subspace and withdrew the small Sovereign piece he had taken from Prowl's set. He studied it for a moment before offering it to his bonded. "Perhaps I should have taken this one a long time ago."

Prowl smiled at his mate's illogic and accepted the piece. "It will always be my favorite from now on. When should we tell Prime what we've done?"

"Sometime after we find the energy to get back home." Jazz said, leaning in for another lazy kiss. "Why?"

"He's sure to be annoyed that the first bonding post-war was done without ceremony out in the badlands," Prowl's spark gave a pulse of amusement. "Ratchet is unlikely to be happy with us either."

Jazz made a face. "I supposed we can have some sort of ceremony, if it'll make Prime happy. Doesn't have to be common knowledge that your spark is _mine_ " Jazz purred as he ran fingers over Prowl's chest, "until then."

Prowl purred at the attention.

"You can tell Ratchet by yourself though, all right?" Jazz added, teasing.

"As if _anyone_ doubts it," Prowl's spark gave another pulse of amusement. "I think more mecha will be shocked that we weren't bonded long ago than that we did it out here." He reached up to claim a kiss. "I will brave Ratchet for you, love."

Jazz laughed, nuzzling his mate and finally forcing himself upright. "Tomorrow. Energon, tonight, and your spark against mine."

"Yes," Prowl rumbled with a flare of desire and promise of what was to come, soon and far down the road now that they were bound forever in the blissful balance they had both craved for so long.


End file.
